#i expressed the need to write lately and this idea was too good to ignore

[jils-things]

nero if you're reading this your tag comment on the fake edit ate im deadass gonna write about it /gen

#i expressed the need to write lately and this idea was too good to ignore #the moment i read that i already had ideas flowing through my mind so #you are so real for that #im gonna cook 😈 #i knew abt the whole calling random trainers to battle them again but including steven in the list js so funny i gotta do it

[monzabee]

how you get the girl – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and your boyfriend Charles attend a gala for a friend and run into Harry Styles – who happens to be your ex. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of a past break-up, jealousy, possessive charles, angst? (only if you squint, or maybe not I don’t know), charles being charles, google translate French, anger?

Request: “Can I request a Charles fanfic with angst? Maybe famous singer reader used to date someone really famous like Harry styles and they run into Harry and Charles is really jealous and acting up/mad?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this is my first time writing a fic, so all feedback is welcome and appreciated. i liked the idea that the anon named harry so i used him, but also i had to include taylor swift some way because she is the literal best. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You sigh, fixing the way the neckline of your dress looks and meeting the eyes of your boyfriend through the mirror. “I know you’d rather be relaxing tonight than entertaining people.” 

Charles smiles softly as he keeps his eyes focused on yours, the green in his eyes shining just a little bit brighter due to the afternoon sun shining through the hotel room window. He abandons his place on the edge of the bed and comes closer to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Are you trying to convince me to stay back, or convince yourself, chérie?”

His question brings a mischievous smile on your lips and you shrug your shoulders with faux innocence as you lean your head back on the Monegasque’s shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, chéri.” Your use of the pet name he taught you when the two of you first went on a date makes him let out a laugh – well, you don’t know if it is because of your use or your pronunciation or your use of the word in general, but you’re hoping for the latter. 

“Well, I think you are.” He takes your hand in his and slowly moves you from your place in front of the mirror. “And it’s not going to work, because you—”

“Promised Helen we’d be there. I know, I know.” You huff, shaking out of his grasp and fixing his bowtie with a small frown on your face as you mumble, “I thought you F1 drivers would be into breaking the rules, but no, I had to find the only decent one.” 

Charles chuckles as he places his hands back onto your waist as you continue your mission with a relentless sense of seriousness. “Aw, you think I’m decent?” 

An urgency to smile snakes up onto your lips because of his question but you try to refrain yourself from doing so by twisting your lip, “Shut up, Charles.” 

“I think you’re decent as well,” he takes a moment to think with an exaggerated expression, “pretty, too.” 

You smile at your handiwork as you pat his bowtie twice and place your hands on the sides of your hips. “Is this your way of saying I look nice?”

He shakes his head and starts walking you towards the door, picking up your coat and bag, and ignoring your protests along the way. “But, yes of course. However, we need to go right now if you don’t want to make Helen angry at you for being late.” 

“At me?” You ask, confused. 

Charles laughs. “Well, yes, chérie. She loves me too much to get mad at me. You’ll have fun once we go inside.” 

By the time the two of you arrive at the gala, Charles has managed to uplift your mood (mostly by promising you pizza and sweets after the two of your leave the event). When you get to Royal Albert Hall, Helen welcomes you with a big smile and open arms. The three of you decide to grab drinks together at the bar and talk about the event, your latest recording deal, Charles’ upcoming season, and Helen’s new client who is a “twat-waffle in skinny jeans, but don’t worry about me, honey, I’ve seen worse.” She leaves the two of you to welcome newcomers, who are probably looking at her to congratulate her on the event. You place your glass on the bar and turn to face Charles, who is looking at you with a small smirk on his face. 

You sigh exaggeratedly and tilt your head to the side. “Fine, you were right, this is fun.” 

He matches your sigh, although with a lighter tone to it. “I know, I love being right.” He quickly finishes the rest of his drink and gets up from his place to offer you his hand. “Now, chérie, allons-nous danser?” Shall we dance? You nod your head, giggling as you take his hand and allow him to pull you onto the dance floor. With the alcohol coursing through your veins, you think this might be the perfect night. 

You and Charles dance through what feels like a hundred songs, but in reality, you lose the count after the third slow-paced song because the DJ decides he’s had enough of the slow songs for the evening and moves onto the fast-paced ones. Both of you jump up and down to the rhythm of the music as best as you can in your choice of heels for the evening, and Charles is there with you to do the same. He nudges your shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows when the DJ decides to play one of your recent songs, not shy to let the people around you know that it is your song. “That’s my girlfriend’s song!” he says, “Yes! It’s the new one!” 

After the previous song finishes, the two of you decide to retire for a bit, walking out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. You turn to Charles when you hear him chuckling and find him shaking his head. “Hey, what are you laughing at?” 

“You look like a tomato, mon amour.” He’s quick to add, “A very cute one at that.” 

You let out a shocked gasp, swatting lightly at his chest to cease his laughs. “It’s not funny! I never make fun of you after your races, even if you do look like a tomato.” 

“That is not true, and you know it.” His laughter continues, making you join him and soon after both of you are laughing uncontrollably; with you leaning against the railing of the balcony and him with his arms placed on either side of you to cage you in. After your laughter dies down, leaving you both in heaving breaths in to calm yourselves, he shrugs off his jacket and gently places it onto your shoulders. 

You gaze up at him, softly smiling through your lashes. “Thank you, my love.”  

You press your lips against the corner of his mouth, but he is quick to capture your lips in his, and his eyes are the last thing before you close yours as he starts kissing you. His hands quickly start moving and he drags them up your body to cradle your face between his hands as he deepens the kiss. You let out an involuntary whimper, in which he responds by gently tugging at your lower lip. In an attempt to bring him closer, you slip your fingers through the belt loops of his dress pants, which thankfully is not occupied by a belt. Charles’ response is to bring your face even closer as he keeps kissing you. The two of you don’t realise the sound of footsteps coming from behind you. 

“Oh, God, sorry.” A voice interrupts, and you quickly separate from each other, albeit a little bit unwillingly. You inhale deeply to regulate your irregular breathing, and let out a gasp as your eyes fall onto the intruder. Just as you are about to open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I can’t believe it, hi Y/N, it’s been ages!” 

Although Charles’ eyebrows furrow, he keeps his gaze focused on you only to turn around to face the intruder once you say, “Hi, Harry, it’s been a while!” He gives him a once over, keeping his hands on your waist as the two of you talk about the lost time. And yes, while Charles can be a jealous man – just like any other guy in a relationship who is as besotted with their partner as he is with you – he never considers himself to be possessive. He even likes Harry’s music, he mostly encounters the songs at the paddock before a race or after while doing media stuff, but he doesn’t have any issues regarding his music or him in general just because he is dating you because he is secure in your relationship to know just how much you love and respect him and the same goes for you. But standing there with you leaning against him while talking to your ex-boyfriend, yes he know he is your ex-boyfriend like the rest of the world thanks to your very public break-up, he just wants to take you away from there any to anywhere where the two of you can be alone. 

You leap off the railing you were leaning against when you feel Charles’ hands tightening on your waist and move one of your hands to cover his as you give him a slight squeeze. “This is Charles, my boyfriend.” 

He watches as you give him a polite smile and attempts to do the same, but it reality his probably comes-off as a strained one. Harry offers him a handshake as he smiles at him, “Hello, nice to meet you.” And then, he watches as the Brit turns his attention once against to you. 

“We missed you at the awards this season, you didn’t attend any of them!” Harry chuckles, shaking his head a little. 

You shrug and answer him with the same polite smile on your face. “Well, you know me, never been fan of the award shows in the first place.” 

Charles knows this, of course he does, because whenever someone starts to ask you about award season in the first place, you let them know that the awards are not the reason you write songs in the first place – the fans are. He tunes most of your conversation out as his insecurities take over his thoughts, he thinks it is funny in a way because your relationship might be the only one where he has felt like he could be himself without worrying about what you might think. Just as he is about the calm his fears by the logical side of his brain reasoning and telling him that he should probably stop acting like a fool, he hears Harry asking you about a song on your album which makes him throw all the rationality he has out the metaphorical window. 

“I-uh, I listened to your new album, it was very good.” Harry says. 

A wide smile finds a place on your face. “Oh, thank you, Harry! It’s nice to hear that.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I liked that one song the most, what’s it called, How You Get the Girl?” He thinks quietly for a split second. “Oh whatever – it was very good. But tell me the truth, was it or was it not about me?” 

“Sorry, can’t tell you that, it’s a secret.” You laugh. And he laughs. And Charles only watches the scene before him without being able to say anything because he is swarmed by all the thoughts he tried so hard pushing out of his head coming back. You must’ve notice his drastic change in mood because you excuse the two of you saying that you’re feeling a little bit cold.

“Oh sure, it was nice seeing you again.” Harry smiles at you, and then addresses Charles, “It was also nice meeting you, Charles. Take care of my girl, eh?” 

“You too, Henry.” Charles replies, without filtering his response in his head and hangs his head low to avoid any awkwardness. 

You wait until the Brit leaves the balcony and then focus on the man in front of you, “Charles–” you start, but he cuts you off with a low voice. 

“Can we just go home?” He inhales deeply. “Please.”  

Needless to say, the car ride home is quiet and tense. Charles acts like he doesn’t care, but you know deep inside that he is bothered by what happened and is probably overthinking the entire situation. The one thing you are grateful for is the fact that you didn’t drive to the venue but instead opted for a car service, thinking that you’d both be drunk by the time event ended. However in reality, neither of you are drunk and you are fairly sure Helen is going to send you a very angry text the next morning because you left early. When the driver announces that you’ve arrived at the hotel, Charles thanks him before exiting the car and you do the same before you lean over to open your door, but Charles is quicker than you and he does it for you. 

He is quiet the entire way up to your hotel room, but he has an arm around you and you place your hand right on top of his in an attempt to sooth whatever negative emotions he is feeling at the moment. He is also quiet when you get to your room, and he helps you pull off your coat and his jacket underneath the coat. He smiles for a split second, seeing his oversized jacket on your frame, but the seriousness returns as he helps you out of it. 

“Charles,” you say his name, “please talk to me.” 

“I’m okay, chérie.” He sighs and places a small kiss to you forehead. “I’m going to take a shower before bed, okay?” He leaves before giving you an opportunity to speak, and you are left behind, thinking about the last time he called you that pet name a few hours ago, and how he was smiling.

Instead of pushing him to talk about his feelings you decide to let him cool down, hoping that he would be more open to having a conversation about what happened after his shower. So, you take of your shoes and your dress – although you struggle to find the zipper for a while – and you take of your make up on the small vanity the hotel provided for you after you put on your pyjamas for the night. By the time Charles is out of his shower, you are waiting for him sat on the edge of the bed, playing with your fingers. 

“I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” He mumbles, weaving his hands through his wet hair. 

You can’t help the small frown etching on your face. “We never go to bed angry at each other.” 

You can see the change in his eyes, but even though his eyes soften at the sight of you, his tone is firm when he tells you, “I’m not angry at you, Y/N.” 

“See, I find it hard to believe that right about now.” You mumble, your eyes falling on your lap for a second. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Just go to sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.” 

“What? Why?” You ask, your voice wavering at the last syllable. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m just going to go over some statistics in the living room.” He doesn’t look at you, or let you protest. He picks up his computer from the abandoned backpack in the corner of the room and presses another light kiss to your forehead before going into the living room to try to get rid of the anger by working it off. 

And thus, you try to go to sleep – mainly because you know just how stubborn Charles is. His mother always tells you stories about when he was a kid and refused to go to bed in his pyjamas because he didn’t want to take off his karting suit. But you see how much he’s stubborn every single day, when he makes you get out of bed in crack-dawn of the day because you told him you wanted to start exercising with a “no, mon amour, you said you wanted to start running!”, or when he makes you eat your vegetables because “you can’t live off of chicken nuggets for the rest of your life, you’re in your twenties!”. But most importantly, you see how stubborn he is every time he pushes himself to be better; a better man, a better son, a better driver and even a better boyfriend. So, it breaks your heart to think that he is outside the doors of the bedroom, alone and contemplating things he shouldn’t have to because he knows just how much you love him. So, you get out of the bed, which isn’t very hard in the first place because it feels too empty and cold without Charles in it, and you march your way through the bedroom doors and into the living room where a certain green-eyed Monegasque driver is hunched over his computer in the low light. 

He looks up and his eyes go wide when he spots you, sleep evident in your eyes and there is a permanent pout on your lips. There is a silent communication between the two of you as he pushes his chair slight off the table for you to place yourself on his lap and consequently wrapping yourself around his sitting figure. 

“Chérie, you should be sleeping, it’s late.” He speaks in a low voice, encouraging you to go to sleep, but you know him well enough to read between the lines. 

Your voice comes of muffled because you cuddle against the side of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep because someone refuses to talk about his feelings and made me become accustomed to his cuddles over the past year and a half.” 

“Mon amour,” he sighs, “I am fine, you don’t have to worry about me. Okay?” 

There isn’t any emotional strain in his voice, unlike before, but you still don’t like the fact that he refuses to acknowledge his feelings. So instead of pushing, you pick your head up again and focus on his green eyes, “You called me by my name, and you never call me by my name unless I’ve done something wrong.” 

“That’s not true.” His voice comes off as a whisper this time. 

“It is and you know it.” You untangle one of your arms from around his neck to cradle his jaw and let your finger wander around. “Please tell me what I’ve done wrong so that I can fix it.” You think for a moment. “S'il vous plait.” Please. 

Charles lets out a frustrated breath and tightens his arms around your frame – involuntarily, or maybe not, but who cares, really? “It’s mine,” He grumbles. 

“What is?” You ask, tilting your head with genuine curiosity. 

“The song.” Now it is Charles’ turn to pout. “It’s my song, you wrote it for me. I was there when you recorded it and you told me so.” 

“Oh, Charles.” You coo, bringing your other hand up to his face and gently caressing his face as you straighten yourself up on his lap. “It is about you, my love, he was just joking.” 

You let out a chuckle as you hear him mumble, “Well, it wasn’t funny to me.” 

“Is this about more than the song?” You ask, continuing the movement of your hands. You smile as he lets out a dissenting mumble, “Good, because I would hate it if you thought I have eyes for anyone other than you.” 

“You would?” He mumbles, leaning into your touch. 

“Oh yes, I would be very upset.” You nod, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. “And Charles?” You ask. 

“Yes, chérie?” He asks right back, his eyes not leaving yours even for a moment. 

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” 

“It’s not your fault,” His eyes become serious for a second again, but they soften at the sight of you quickly. “Don’t blame yourself, chérie.” He mumbles as he kisses you softly on your lips. “Okay?”

“But still,” You mumble, “I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” 

He sighs, but it is not a sad sigh like before. Which makes you think it is an improvement. “I’m sorry I can’t write songs about you.”

“What?” You ask, voice shaky. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m not– I can’t put my feelings into words that way.” His hands occupy themselves with the string of your pyjama pants. 

“I don’t need you to write me songs, Charles, and I don’t want you to change.” You press soft kisses around his face, making him smile involuntarily. “I love you just the way you are, you stubborn stubborn man.” You thing he’s about to say something, but can’t finish your train of thought because suddenly you’re being lifted off the chair and you’re in the air. You let out a shriek, “What are you doing?” 

“Taking you to bed,” Charles replies, and rolls his eyes as your expression changes. “To sleep,” he emphasises the second word, “méchante fille” naughty girl. You laugh as he puts you back on your side of the and tucks you in before turning off the lights and getting into the bed himself. He is quick to pull you towards his arms and cuddle you under his weight, which you’ve become accustomed to and helps you sleep better. “Go to sleep, mon amour.” He kisses you on your forehead again. 

“Charles?” You ask into the night, and continue once he lets out an affirmative hum. “Je t'aime.” I love you.

“Je t'aime aussi, mon amour.” I love you too, my love. You hear him say as you’re falling to sleep. “Tu es l'amour de ma vie.” You’re the love of my life.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #harry styles makes an apperance

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚Not Too Late

✧.* Pair - Miguel O'hara x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Swearing, a tiny bit of violence, sexual and also little violent choking, implied smut at the end.

✧.* Summary - Miguel knew from the moment he laid eyes on her, she would cause a lot of trouble for him...

✧.* Extra - Reader is a variant of Black Cat. Also I was listening to Not Too Late by Kali Uchis while writing this so... do what you want with that.

✧.* Word Count - 1,012

Miguel has dealt with many creatures, bad guys, and anti-heroes in his life being in places where they shouldn't, but there was one specific situation that he couldn't get rid of. He was utterly confused as to why he couldn't simply send her home just like the others. According to him, she was annoying, arrogant, sneaky, infuriating, and downright a bitch. Lyla would always tell him to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he always just rolls his eyes whenever the hologram tells him that.

"If you hate Y/N so much, then why don't you send her back home?"

He always hears that question over and over again whenever he unknowingly goes on rants about her. Most of the time Miguel ignores the question or makes up a stupid excuse about her being useful in certain missions. He knew his excuses were bullshit. He would never send Y/N on any missions because he "doesn't trust her".

Yet, that little voice inside his head couldn't help but admire Y/N. She is an insanely strong human being. Good with sneaking around, had excellent vision and balance, had a unique ability to alter bad luck, attractive, plush thighs, plump lips, and soft skin. Miguel hated whenever he would think of something positive about Y/N, but he couldn't help it.

Some would think that Miguel's "hatred" for Y/N was love in disguise. Lyla would poke at him for "secretly being in love with Y/N". No matter how many times he would deny it, the little voice in the back of his head would only laugh at him denying it. There are moments Miguel would think about Y/N; how she would look outside of her tight latex suit, waiting for him in bed, ready for him to fuck her. But no matter how many times he would think of her that way, he would express his feelings of hatred towards her to the public.

She had sex appeal and he couldn't deny it. And if there was a chance, he would fuck her.

Y/N was a one-of-a-kind woman. The moment she laid her eyes on Miguel, she knew she had found the one... to pick at. She loved getting under his skin. Why? According to her, it was hot whenever he looked like he was on the verge of beating the shit out of her. She also loved arguing with him. It didn't matter the topic. She just loved the way he would raise his voice at her.

Y/N knew Miguel had sex appeal. She would do anything to get dicked down by him.

Well, luckily for Y/N, she was stuck in one of the situations where Miguel was mad at her. It all started when Miguel sensed her presence in his working headroom.

"Get out, L/N."

Y/N could only smirk, "Oh, but why would I do that, O'hara?" Y/n walked closer to him and stopped once she was about 2-3 feet away from him. He was looking at whatever boring multiverse task he needed to concentrate on with his back turned to her.

"Because I don't want you in here distracting me. Go bother someone else." He stated with annoyance in his voice.

"Why are you always so miserable, Miguel? The Spiderman on my earth is always open to listen to my jokes and have fun." Y/N said with a hint of teasing in her voice.

Miguel could only roll his eyes, "Then go to that Spiderman and leave me alone."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. She hated whenever he would say something like that because truth be told, she didn't really like hanging out with the other spider-people. Unless it was Jessica, Hobie, Peter B, or Gwen. She always wanted to be around Miguel because she loved messing with him.

Suddenly, she got an idea in her head. An idea that she knew would piss him off.

"I hope you know a lot of the spiders are running around, spreading that you have a little crush on me. And that's the reason why you won't kick me out because you secretly love being around me." Y/N imparted.

Miguel paused what he was doing, and his eyes became slightly wider. His entire world seems to have fallen apart, but why? He pretends to despise her, but does he also have romantic feelings for her that he is unaware of? Why was it so important to him that she told him that? Miguel turned around to look at Y/N.

"From the look on your face, I can see that-"

"Who is spreading this misinformation?" he asked in a demanding tone. Y/N could only smirk.

"Wipe that smug smile off your fucking face and-"

"That doesn't matter," she walked closer to him and started rubbing her fingers up and down his muscular arm, "It's okay to admit you love and need me. I know things could get a little lonely down here and-" but before Y/N could finish her sentence, Miguel grabbed her by the throat and slammed her on his table. (Lyla calls it his working table. ) Not too hard to hurt her, but to force her where she needed to be.

That was the moment he realized he was done hating. He was done ignoring the fact he was attracted to her. He was done ignoring the fact that there was always sexual tension between them. He wanted to shut her up and destroy her. Make her a whimpering and moaning mess because of him. He was finally happy to release all of his sexual frustration and anger on her body.

He got on top of her and started zipping down the zipper to her suit, exposing her tits and the black panties she wore underneath. He started to lower himself to the same level as her pussy and looked up at her with those venomous eyes. He started to slowly remove her panties and smirked at her reaction.

"Maybe this will finally shut you up."

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

yo

#miguel o'hara #Miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #Marvel

[malleusfucker]

private study session

i have a shit ton of uni work but is writing smut of this man more important i think so

i live and breathe for asshole malleus y’all don’t even understand that man is a smug bastard

synopsis: your grades have been plummeting. bad. so much so that if you don’t improve, you might have to end up retaking the yearーwhich you definitely don’t want. no matter how hard you study and revise by yourself, nothing seems to stick. that was until you built up the courage to ask your close friend, malleus, if he could tutor you.

warnings: smut/nsfw, degrading, choking, lowkey hate sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mating press, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

word count: 2.8k

“oh-ho? and what makes you believe that my time will not be wasted?"

“it won’t, i swear! …please, malleus, just this once. i might have to retake the year if i don’t improve.” you shifted your feet nervously, continuing your embarrassing attempt at trying to convince the dragon fae to lend you just a slither of his intelligence. you weren’t one to beg, but at this pointーyou had to. of course, being the only non-magic student to have miraculously enrolled into NRC, it was a given your grades would be subparーbut not to this extent.

"and we certainly don't want that, do we?"

malleus's tone was condescending, apparently relishing the sight of you pleading for his help in front of him. his lips curved into a grin, and he cocked his head to one side. “i mean… that would be unfortunate if you needed to repeat the year. i do enjoy the lessons i have with you, child of man.”

your eyes widened as if he were finally giving in to your wish, like a puppy seeing a treat for the first time. “then? then…!? will you help me, malleus?”

malleus seemed thoughtfully contemplative for a few seconds. you were sure you saw a glimpse of something in his eyes for a single second. something menacing.

“fine. i’ll accept your request, child of man. you’re quite the lucky one, you know? not everyone can say that they’ve had me as their personal tutor.”

personal tutor, huh? it didn’t sound bad when he put it like that.

it was 6 p.m. malleus agreed to assist you back at your own dormーwhich surprised you slightly, but you didn’t mind. if anything, it only meant that evening was about to be spent without any disturbances.

…

it became clear that malleus was going to spend hours tutoring you like he stated he would. you sat pitifully looking at the pages in front of you as he poured information into your ears that amounted to little more than background noise. he was in the seat next to you. his body, though, was stiff. with one leg over the other and his arms crossed, it felt like being lectured about how dumb you are. 

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

but it was probably too late to back out of it now.

snap

“are you ignoring me, child of man?”

as you heard his fingers snap at you, you quickly brought your eyes back into focus to see a face brimming with frustration and irritation.

“were you even paying attention to a single word i said?”

malleus was furious. with a tone laced with something much more than frustration, you knew you messed up big. the words that came out of his mouth only made the hairs on your arms prick up, feeling your mouth get dry as he leaned in close to your face, seeing the rage in his expression ever more clearly.

he was close. too close. you were so uneasy that you were certain he would smite you on the spot if you said something stupid.

“yes..! i swear i was malleus!”

you felt his stare burn right through you, feeling as though he’d bite off your head any second. all that you could hope was that if you said “yes” enough, maybe he’d let you off easier.

that wasn’t the case.

“am i boring you? is a human’s time for daydreaming more important than mine?”

you started to shake in your seat, your heart in your throat.

“you have a lot of nerve, child of man. taking my generosity for granted, really, you are bold.”

he drew even nearer until his face was almost brushing yours. all you could do was tremble and pray that he wouldn't actually murder you at this very moment. suddenly feeling paralysed, you couldn't even gather the energy to defend yourself.

he pressed a finger on your foreheadーhardーwatching you practically unravel in front of him.

“what will it take, child of manーfor you to listen? how can we make the time left today not utterly pointless?”

he remained far too close to your face for your liking. whilst your body was about to give way any second, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for some strange reason. you’ve never seen malleus so close up before, it was almost an honour. you wanted to shake these stupid, borderline dangerous thoughts away, but you almost felt in awe at the anger he was expressing to youーas bad as that was.

“hoh? got nothing to say? heh, it’s almost as if you’re trying to anger me. you’re certainly the first to do such a thing, child of man.”

he moved his finger from off your forehead to your jaw, resting it under your chin as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. you gave him a glazed-over look. it was as if every single thought in your head suddenly turned off, rendering you speechless and still. feeling his finger touch underneath your chin, you couldn’t help but sweat, your face becoming more flushed by the second.

“hmm, your face is heating up. am i embarrassing you, child of man?”

malleus was. 

but even with all that embarrassment that was thoroughly washing through your entire body, you could sense a faint sensation of excitement starting to bubble. were you the masochistic type? did you actually enjoy getting humiliated by him? perhaps not, but seeing him get so riled up over youーhis face inches away from your ownーhey, maybe dying at the hands of someone like him wouldn’t be…too bad.

though, in the end, you could never hide things from malleus. if he couldn't detect your excitement from your face, something else revealed it for you. the slits in his eyes thinned, he glared at you. he could smell, ever so slightly, a hint of your arousal.

“...my. do you have a death wish?”

as soon as those words left his lipsーyou blinkedーsuddenly finding yourself having been thrown onto your desk, your back slamming onto the hardwood.

you gasped as you abruptly came out of your trance and felt him securely hold your legs as he towered over you. malleus wasted no time in entertaining those lewd thoughts your body was so clearly showingーwith a simple snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished and fell beside you. to say you were shocked to see this sudden change in him would be an understatement. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with how fast everything was moving, you could say he was eager butーwith that expression…

it looked as if your mere presence disgusted him.

malleus slid his hand up over your neck, wrapping his long fingers around it before slowly squeezing as he spoke.

“heh. child of man, give me one good reason why i shouldn’t kill you right here.”

your body was shaken to its core. that voiceーthat sentence alone made you feel faint. you pathetically flailed your arms around, weakly trying to release the grip he was slowly tightening on your neck. the pressure around your throat distracted you from how vulnerable you looked under him right now. naked and shiveringーmalleus started to grin and leaned close to you, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. it was strange. the kiss felt so soft on you, yet the pain you felt merely inches away couldn’t have been more different.

he laid tiny wet kisses down your forehead and jaw before snatching his other hand and slipping it between your legs, gently teasing your wet folds. something about the contrast between his touch and his kisses made you melt; you felt yourself slump lower and lower onto the desk as you embarrassedly leaked all over it. “...malleus- i’m- i’m sorry-” you wheeze, still trying to release the vicious hold he had on your neck.

his face stayed close to you, and he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck and jaw. the sudden sensation made you twitch, moaning slightly at how warm and wet his forked tongue felt against your bare flesh.

“it’s all too late to apologise now.”

“tutoring you was an utter waste of time. now, i’d much rather try something else.”

before you could even attempt to reply, he let his hand from your neck free. you gaspedーsuddenly feeling your naked, trembling body be dragged to the edge of the desk. your mind was racing so much that you failed to hear the sound of his belt suddenly slamming against the ground. you stared off at the ceiling, your lip quivering. the whole thing seemed like a dream, albeit a strange one. your rational mind refused to accept the reality of the situationーbut your body...had never felt so hot before. it felt unbearable; you needed to be relieved. and luckily, malleus was there, leaning over with his gaze searing through you evermore.

he forcefully propped your shaking legs up against his waist with one hand, immediately snatching your face to make you look at him. however, for a moment, it looked as if he had forgotten what had led you two to be in such a predicament and simply loomed over you, staring at you. his gaze almost switched to a softer one, feeling the urge to gently caress your cheek. though that was quickly discarded, and immediately that familiar look of disgust soon reappeared on his face.

malleus moved his hips closer to yoursーfinally feeling his hard erection brush against your twitching core; you wincedーwishing you could throw your arms around him and bring him even closer to you.

malleus, however, was not in the mood to be so courteous to you and certainly didn't want to take up any more time than had already been lost.

without any preparation, you suddenly felt malleus drive one of his cocks into you. you screamed out, feeling him sliding and bottoming out of you with just one thrust. swiftly, with three of his fingers then violently thrust into your mouth, you gagged and choked, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, 

“bite down. good students know not to be noisy.”

you tried to pathetically choke out to malleus that it was too muchーyour body shook and convulsed from the agonising splitting pain of his long, hard cock bullying its way into you, poking and prodding at your cervix. you sank your nails into the desk, biting down hard on his fingers as he pushed and slammed his hips into you, your cries for help becoming louder by the second. within minutes of him thrusting into you, you felt pressure rapidly build in your stomach, causing you to clench and squeeze against him. 

“oh? what’s this? don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

you wailed, but his insulting remarks just made you feel worse about your own increasing arousal. still choking on his fingers, you nodded frantically when you then felt sharp cramping throughout your body as if you were about to cum. he swiftly slipped his fingers out while he was still thrusting into you just so he could hear your pitiful cries. 

you felt your body shudder against the desk as a wave of scorching hot pleasure swept over you, pouring and seeping down onto the hardwood under you. you tried to catch your breath, gagging and choking as you already felt so sore and painful from just one orgasm. but it was obvious that malleus wasn't through with you just yet. it was, if anything, just the start.

he gave you time to calm down, your breath slowly easing as you shut your eyes, thinking this torture had reached its end. 

of course, malleus would not let you off that lightly. his rage persisted and seeing you believe that this punishment was over just made him more spiteful.

he leaned in, his breath hot, “i’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. now put your arms around me.” his tone was once again mocking, but this time it felt more serious, like everything you did would simply enrage him more.

he suddenly forced you into a mating press, your legs wedged up against your chest as you struggled to wrap your trembling arms around his head. you cried out and started to think that your body wouldn’t be able to handle thisーthat he might actually break you.

as he started to softly drive into you, drawing more weak and muffled groans from your lips, your hands connected to the base of his horns, clutching and scraping your nails across them. he started off slow, almost giving a relaxing quality to his thrusts as he softly kissed your forehead and smiled sweetly against your face, much to your surprise. your body relaxed as a result of his sudden shift in attitude, enjoying the fleeting moments of him lovingly moving his hips against yours, which were only going to abruptly come to an end.

your eyes were closed, not being able to see the horrific smile malleus suddenly had across his face. you assumed that the strange sadistic side of him had long since vanished, as evident by your voice becoming moans of pure pleasure rather than of pain. regardless of his disposition, he enjoyed seeing you this way. seeing how you moaned so quietly and softly only made the urge to completely ruin you that much stronger.

“are you enjoying this?”

you slowly opened your eyes, malleus still gently pushing into you as you lazily nodded, whimpering as the pleasure inside you continued to become greater. “mmm…malleus. it feels so good…don’t stop.” 

“heh. so you think you can tell me what to do? your disrespect truly knows no bounds.”

your growing sense of pleasure abruptly gave way to a dreadful fear as he pushed your legs higher onto your chest and over his shoulders, making it clear that he was absolutely certain you couldn't get away. not understanding what he meant, your lip began to quiver, only for him to rid you of your confusion by suddenly thrusting into you aggressively. you screamed out, tears soon welling in your eyes again as he gave you no time to acclimate to the sudden pace. he licked his lips, savouring the view of you struggling and wailing underneath him as he gradually began to envelop your neck with his fingers. he hovered his face close to yours, sticking his long, forked tongue out before sloppily kissing your lips, still continuing his ruthless pace. you groaned under him, feeling yourself beginning to choke from both his tongue and his fingers, which were slowly beginning to squeeze your throat once again.

it was all far too muchーyour vision starting to blur, and all of your senses drowning and bleeding into one another as he kept pounding his thick cock into you, causing you to harshly grip and pull his hair. 

he immediately drew his face back and tutted at you, but seeing the way your eyes began to roll into the back of your head only made him want to quicken his paceーif it was even possible. 

“haha…perfect. so perfect…”

the words coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense. he was praising you yet abusing you with every thrust and squeeze of your body, not even giving you a chance to cry out as your head slowly began to feel faint. all of the pain and pleasure made you lose your mind, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly as he started to lick and nip at your ears. 

he throbbed and twitched inside of you and felt his own climax begin to rise, eventually making the decision to be generous enough and remove his vice-like grasp from around your neck. you gasped and cried out, finally able to breathe and mewling as a result of his cruel touch. 

“malleus...ーpleaseーit’s too…ーmuch... ’m gonna-” he smiled at your pleas, pressing your legs harder against your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you.

“heh, are you going to cum? haha…then do it. cum for me.”

it seemed as if he had put you under a spell with how immediate and intense your orgasm was, your walls clenching down on his throbbing cock with tears dripping down your chin. you felt the sensation of hot, burning pleasure wrack through your body once again, not even hearing your own screams from how strong it was.

malleus didn't even allow you to come down from your high. instead, he kept pushing to reach his own climax, feeling his body start to shudder and throb as he kissed you. “i’m…close…you’ll allow me to cum inside of you, won’t you? i know you will.” 

you didn’t even care anymoreーyour legs continued to shake and tremble as you feebly nodded with your eyelids flickering. it seemed like malleus would fulfil his word, for a few seconds later, he let out a moan as he unleashed and pumped copious loads of white cum into you, causing you to whimper as you felt him completely fill you up.

his breathing evened almost immediately. wiping the sweat from off your face, he delicately slid his cock out from inside of you to admire his work, gazing at the way your body jerked with his cum spilling and gushing out of your abused hole.

…

“heh. maybe tutoring you every week won’t be so bad after all.”

#malleus smut #malleus draconia #malleus draconia smut #malleus x reader #twst smut #malleus headcanons #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst malleus #malleus draconia x you #malleus hcs #malleus x mc #malleus x y/n #malleus draconia headcanons #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #twst x y/n #twst x mc #malleus twisted wonderland #malleus smut headcanons #twisted wonderland malleus draconia

[melrodrigo]

The Other Side Of The Door - V.C.

Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vada’s been a questionable girlfriend lately, and you’ve decided you’ve had enough.

Warnings: Angst, Vada is kinda toxic in this, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Inspired by TOSOTD by miss t-swizzle herself. I hope u angst monsters r happy, I don’t write angst very often. Also! Did not proofread this, sorry bout that

“Leave.” You say, face stoney and eyes narrowed. You ignore the voice inside of you that says this is a terrible idea.

Your girlfriend blinks back at you, taken aback by the venom in your voice.

Her expression changes from happy to crestfallen in a second, and it takes everything in you to not immediately take back what you’ve just said.

“What is this about?” She asks, eyes wide.

The minute your girlfriend had waltzed into your room, whistling to her favorite Juice Wrld song, she had been met with the sight of you sitting on your bed, arms crossed.

“What is this about? Are you kidding, Vada?” You seethe, too pissed to have any sort of filter anymore.

She gulps.

“How about it’s about the countless times I’ve had to drag you back home because you were drunk shitless, doing god knows what with god knows who, without any explanation whatsoever.” You’re standing up now, sizing Vada up.

“It’s about the amount of times you’ve ignored me this whole week, never answering texts, never picking up my calls. Am I even your girlfriend anymore?” You press, rambling as if everything that’s been pent up inside you for weeks stars spilling out all at once.

Your girlfriend pales as you monologue, eyes darting to lock on anything but your face.

“But-“ She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times, searching for something to say.

You cut her off quickly. Unwillingly to let her have any say in this.

“Quite frankly, I’ve had enough. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave.” You tell her, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes are starting to water.

She’s as still as a statue for a good minute or two, contemplating what she wants to do. You can practically see the cogs turning in her brain.

One more glare from you has her rushing out your room and downstairs. You can’t help the pang in your chest as you watch her leave. After everything, you still want her to stay.

Stupid girl and the grip she has on me.

Nothing quells your bad mood for the rest of the night. You spend dinner shooting back one word responses to your mom’s inquiries, irritable.

You tuck yourself into bed, check your phone for a message from anyone—okay, maybe you wanted to see if Vada had said anything, but nothing. You huff and pull the sheets over your body, closing your eyes shut and forcing sleep to have its way with you.

-

Somehow, in the morning, you wake up even more annoyed. Whenever you’ve had fights with Vada before, the morning after she’d be all over you; begging for forgiveness and blowing up your phone.

You’re ashamed to admit you like the attention.

Today, nothing. Not a single call or text from your normally oh so talkative girlfriend.

As the day goes on, you start feeling mournful. Regret courses deep through you. You sit and stew in your feelings until you can’t think of anything else.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said all that.

It’s a sad Sunday that’s spent with you staring at cute photographs you’d taken with her months prior, and jumping at the sound of any notification. It’s pathetic, but you need her. You don’t remember how long it’s been since you and Vada have had a day apart.

You’re stuck. You miss her so much, but your stupid pride won’t allow you to text first, or to go find her, because what would you even do? You’d been the one to apologize first too many times. This time, you decide it’s going to be up to Vada.

You sleuth around for the rest of your Sunday. When you finish dinner and storm to your room, your turmoil has turned into spite.

“If you don’t call in the next 5 minutes I swear I’m breaking up with you.” You hiss to the phone, staring intently at Vada’s profile picture, as if she’s just going to pop out of the phone by sheer will of you wanting her there.

After a minute of this, you set the phone down and take a deep breath. You turn your phone on do not disturb and pick up a book. All this drama has you feeling like you need to reconnect with nature a bit.

It’s a book Vada herself had recommended you, which was funny, since your girlfriend barely read shit. You hate to admit she has good taste. You glide through the pages easily, happy for a distraction.

Minutes turn into hours, and before long, you notice that the light is starting to dim down and the sun is starting to set. You also hear the tiny pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof.

You get up and walk to your window, face still buried in your book, and gently ease it open, hoping to find some comfort in the fresh air and smell of wet grass.

What you get is not that. A pebble, the size of your pinky comes hurling, too fast for even your reflexes to react.

It hits you smack dab in the face, making you loosen your grip on the book and dropping it. You groan, rubbing the part of your nose that stings. You hear a tiny oh shit below you and you peer out your window so fast it gives you whiplash.

The sight of Vada standing in the rain, her hair messy and her bike discarded on your tiny front yard brings out a lot of mixed emotions in you.

Finally. Goddamn, finally.

She looks sheepish as she speaks. “I’m sorry!” She squeaks. “I didn’t mean to hit you- I swear. I was just trying to do one of those huge romantic gestures where the guy gets the girls attention by throwing pebbles at her window ya know? But it ended up being kinda fun and I didn’t see you when I threw that one-“ She says, speaking so fast you can barely understand her.

When you don’t answer, it’s almost like Vada remembers what she came here for. She straightens up, wiping her palms on her loose graphic tee.

“I’m sorry. I really am. If you would hear me out, I’ll explain everything. I promise. I’m sorry for not coming to my senses earlier, and I’m sorry for not paying you enough attention. I love you, I’m in love with you; you know that. More than anything.” She yells, almost screams so you can hear her clearly.

You feel your walls crumble immediately. How were you going to deny your sweet, loving, albeit sort of confusing girlfriend of your love? It was no use. She always wins when it comes to you.

You sigh.

Vada waits patiently, shifting on her feet and shivering slightly from the cold.

You gesture for her to come in with your hand, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the joy that sparks across her face immediately.

She sprints in, saying a quick hello to your mom- who probably heard everything, and runs up the stairs, practically tackling you onto your own bedroom floor.

She’s soaked, and you can already feel the water seeping through your own shirt, but you don’t care. Vada’s wrapped herself tight around you, like a baby koala. She’s trembling slightly, and you notice she’s crying.

You place your hand on top of her head, rubbing gently. You murmur sweet nothings into her ear.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes all red and puffy. She looks so pretty like this.

“I missed you so much.” She gushes.

You grin lazily, happy to have your girlfriend back in your arms.

“I missed you too, baby.”

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega

[lust4life01]

literally anything with donnie is fine! just wanted to tell you how much i love your writing too!! :)

Awe thank you sm qt!! I whole heartedly appreciate that, it means so much to me💘 This is a little rushed <3

Baby, Sit.

(Not my image!!). 18+

Warnings!!- Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, dom x sub, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, slight chocking, possession and teasing.

Dom Donnie x f/reader

(Donnie and reader are both 18!) Disclaimer/ this is purely fantasy, if somebody is cruel to you irl it does not mean they like you, they’re scum :)

Summary: You were hired by Rose and Eddie Darko to baby sit for their youngest child Samantha, little did you know you would be sitting for some else.

Being an eighteen year old student, you were painfully broke, so when your mother had referred you to her friend to baby sit, you immediately accepted.

When your mother had told you the name of the woman who’s child you would be looking after you felt a wave of anxiety rush through you.

Rose Darko. As in the parent of Donnie Darko.

You and Donnie had been in the same school, you were the same age. And unfortunately you couldn’t stand him and vice versa. There was something about the pair of you that didn’t work. He was always so uptight and had to be right about everything, it was infuriating. There was one main factor that contributed to the continuous clash between the two of you, which was the fact you dated his best friend up until pretty recently. You hadn’t seen Donnie since then considering you had no reason to be around each other anymore but the thought of seeing him again made you want to scream into a pillow.

Whenever you two would be in the same vicinity he would just straight up ignore your presence or when he did acknowledge you he would be blunt and snappy. You had no idea why but this lead to a lot of animosity between the two of you.

So when your mother had told you you would be babysitting for Samantha Darko you immediately wanted to call up Rose and tell her you wouldn’t be able to do it. However you were pretty broke and you assured yourself you probably wouldn’t see Donnie, not if there was no one to baby sit his younger sister. Plus what was you supposed to tell her? Sorry I can’t watch your child that I’ve already agreed to watch because your son hates me? Yeah no.

———————————————————-

“Hey (y,n) yeah we’ll be gone for a couple hours but we left some money for pizza.” Mrs Darko told you as you stood in their kitchen.

You already knew Samantha from when she would bug Donnie at school and run up to the friend group. She was a sweet kid and she liked you well enough so that definitely eased your nerves.

“Okay great, does Samantha need to be in bed by a specific time.” You asked sweetly, knowing full well you’d probably let her stay up regardless.

“Um nope just not too late and by the time we get home. Oh and she has homework to do.”

Rose sterling looked at Samatha as a warning.

“Boringgg.” Samantha protested whilst stood directly by your side.

“Okay well we’ll see you later, have fun” Eddie spoke as they made their way out of the door.

Rose returned and popped her head into the door before leaving .

“Oh (y,n) I’m sure Donnie will be glad to see you again.” She smiled and quickly left before you could even form a response.

Your mind paced. Was Donnie supposed to be here? Why did they need a babysitter then? Did they know you two used to be in the same friendship group? Had he mentioned you? Was it negative? Did he express how much he hated you? Would you actually see him again?

“Can you paint my nails?” Samantha snapped you from your spiral of anxious thoughts.

You turned to her and smiled. “Of course”

You had painted her nails, watched her dance rehearsals and told her how good she was, ordered pizza and now you were helping her with her homework.

She had to write about the character of Pony boy Curtis from ‘The Outsider’ by S.E Hinton.

You had loved studying this book when you was her age and literature in general. So it was absolutely no bother helping her complete her assignment.

“Well, he’s obviously very different and unique to the other characters which can be inferred through-“

You were cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Pizza, thank God!” Samantha cried out holding her hands together.

Laughing at her childhood silliness you walked over and opened the front door with cash in your hand, your stomach very exited to finally eat.

However, you were not laughing when you opened the door to someone that was not the pizza delivery man. In fact you no longer felt hunger but complete nausea. Instead a tallish guy with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stood on the other side. Donnie.

You didn’t say anything, just moved to the side to let him through. He didn’t say anything either. Simply walked past as if you weren’t there, the smell of cigarettes trailing behind him.

“Ugh it’s just my stupid brother, not pizza” Samantha whined.

Donnie pulled a face at her as he made his way through the house.

“Hey Sam, when she goes home tonight, Freddie Kruger is gonna craw out from under your bed.” He teased through a creeping voice, obviously trying to upset her.

Samantha in her upset state, Freddie Kruger clearly being a touchy subject, yelled out whist nearly in tears

“SHUT UP DONNIE, NO HE WONT!”

He then made his way over to her homework and scoffed, picking up her copy of The Outsiders and mumbled “mediocre.”

He then proceeded upstairs, leaving the minute he’d managed to make someone else feel bad. Typical.

You rolled your eyes at his cruelty. Of course she wouldn’t be reading fucking Dostoevsky at her age.

Remembered what it was like being in an English class with Donnie gave you a headache. He had great ideas but god forbidden you had an opposing idea. He would scoff and roll his eyes. It drove you crazy. He wasn’t always like that thought, at one point he used to encourage your ideas and even swap notes with you.

You were cut from your thoughts once again when the door bell went again, fortunately this time the pizza man was the one on the other side.

Sam ate some pizza, you no longer felt hungry but you did eventually managed to calm Sam down. The pair of you just chatted about whatever she wanted. She was telling you about some childish drama in her friendship group and you nodded your head pretending like it wasn’t the funniest shit you’d ever heard. Childhood drama is always hilarious when you’re no longer a child.

Despite being distracted by Sam, you kept thinking about the boy upstairs. “Do you think your brothers eaten?”

Sam shrugged her shoulders “who cares?” annoyance laced in her voice at the mention of her older brother.

You said nothing and proceeded with her homework.

Once she had finally finished she was ready to sleep. Her expression exhausted and she yawned after almost every word of her sentence.

“I’m- not even like- that- tired.”

You giggled at her before telling her she should probably head up to bed but you did promise to braid her hair first.

“Thanks for keeping me company (y,n), you were always my favourite out of Donnie’s friends” she smiled and hugged you at the bottom of the staircase.

The word ‘friend’ lingered for a while in your head. It was true, you were friendly at a time. It sucked because he felt good to be around for a time.

You stayed downstairs as she marched off to bed, whispered a sweet “goodnight” as she made her way to bed.

There was still around an hour and a half until Eddie and Rose were supposed to be home and you hadn’t seen anything of Donnie since he had come home. It was weird, you felt like you hated him but you also wanted to be around him. You especially wanted to know why he hated you. A part of you hoped that maybe he’d go back to his old self but instead you pushed him into the back of your mind and stared to clean up a little.

Once you had cleared up you sat onto the couch and grabbed a book from your bag and stared to read. You only had a few chapters left so decided to try and finish them tonight.

You were so drawn into the book that you didn’t realise a familiar figure loomed behind you. Donnie stood behind the couch reading over your shoulder. After a couple second of you not noticing his presence, he leaned down to your ear.

“Good choice.”

You jumped and your head snapped round to Donnie, almost slapping him out of instinct as a small yelp slipped past your lips.

“What the fuck Donnie. I could have woken up your sister. What’s wrong with you?”

His face was close to yours, and a small smile crept onto his face as he watched your second of distress. “Hello to you too (y,n)”

“Why are you being so friendly? Thought you couldn’t stand me?” You asked with your brows furrowed and your tone daring. You weren’t even with his stupid friend anymore so you had no clue why he was still such a dick.

“I’ve never said that.”

His answer was short and blunt but he had that smug grin on his face. Not one that radiated happiness or flirtation but something else. Power maybe? Like a wolf who had corned a bunny and laughed hysterically as it tried to escape.

You didn’t try to escape from him though. You kept your eyes locked onto his, not daring to dart your eyes away as a sign of weakness.

“You didn’t have to.”

He however did not have any snarky remarks in response. Instead he made his way round to the spot on the couch next to you and snatched the book from your hands.

“Ah 1984. George Orwell. You know when I tried to explain to your small minded boyfriend. Oh no. Ex-boyfriend, the concept of this book it was exhausting.” He rolled his eyes dramatically with that mean playful look on his face.

Why on earth was he doing this? Mentioning your ex boyfriend, calling his own friend small minded, even speaking to you. You racked your brain on why he was doing this. Sure you had known he hated you but that usually manifested itself through his lack of interest in engaging with you or his need to argue with everything you ever said. Now it was like he was taunting you by giving you this almost flirtatious, slightly sadistic attention. It was so odd but so hypnotising.

“But then again, I never did understand why he was with someone like you.”

You couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult. Someone like you? What exactly did that entail.

“What are doing Donnie?”

Your brows were furrowed slightly and your eyes a little sad, completely fed up of trying to work out his cruel ways, or even justify them to yourself.

You and Donnie had been somewhat friends before you started dating his best friend, but as soon as you did he became a new person. When you’d occasionally chat in the library about whatever book you were studying he’d always smile or when you’d catch each other on the way home and he’d be a little awkward but totally engaged with whatever you were saying, it was nice. That all came to a stop when his friend had started to pay you attention. You thought maybe Donnie felt as though you’d stolen his best friend and for that you did truly feel sorry.

You were now face to face in the dimly light room. Just a lamp illuminated the two faces.

“What were you doing (y,n)?”

He was no longer smug but he had caught and attitude with you. There something underlying in this anger in his voice. A deep irritation sat on his tongue.

“What do you want me to say Donnie? Sorry I didn’t live up to the expectation of being your friends dream girl, or sorry that you felt abandoned by him?

He shook his head and let out a hysterical laugh. As if your words were a pathetic joke.

“Ugh (y,n) I honestly thought you were smarter than this. I didn’t give a fuck about losing ‘crucial friend time’” He mocked.

“It frustrated me that someone as smart as you would even consider giving someone like that your time of day. Someone who you couldn’t converse with about anything slightly philosophical or opinions on a new book or poetry, because ‘books are useless, or ‘metaphors are stupid’. Mimicking his best friends voice as he spoke.

You said nothing. You were speechless and your brain hurt from trying to work him out. You just thought to yourself after his little outburst. Then it hit you. Was this jealousy?

“Why do you care so much Donnie? It’s not like I could talk about poetry or a new fucking book with you. You wouldn’t even talk to me.”

You snapped back, testing him. Was he truly jealous of not you, but your ex?

You were both still face to face. Inches away from each other.

“Only after you climbed into bed with someone who didn’t deserve you.” His voice was assertive and filled with envy yet his voice was low.

The realisation on how close you two had gotten finally hit the both of you. You were staring at him with your lips slightly parted and a slight confusion brushed your features. Why did you find this hot? God, you told yourself this was wrong but the sound of jealousy in his voice made your chest heave with excitement.

The sound of your heart beat was loud, it felt as though your heart had been placed to your ear. His lips were so close to yours. But you were upset, with another overwhelming feeling aching in your chest. Lust?

His eyes were still fixed on yours. “It should have been my bed you were climbing in.”

He brought his fingers up to your jaw possessively.

The two big black holes that had replaced his usual pupils drew you in. His eyes trailed down to your slightly parted lips. There was a part of you that wanted to cry and shout at him for being such a dick, but you couldn’t. It was like you had been hypnotised. Or maybe you’d just awoken from the trance you’d been under. This complete and utter blindness towards Donnie’s feeling towards you, or yours for him.

Amongst your silence he crashed his lips to yours. The kiss was hard and desperate. He pushed his tongue past your lips and you let a small moan slip. His hands cupped either side of your jaw as his teeth sank into your bottom lip.

A small hiss left your lips at the sharp pain that send a shock through your body. Donnie’s hand trailed down from your jaw to neck and his hand slowly snaked it’s way around to your throat. He added a little pressure, not enough to hurt you but just enough to make you feel everything more intensely whilst his other hand brought some hair behind your ear.

He pulled away from the kiss, keeping his hand exactly as they were and just admired the mess of emotions plastered along your face. Anger, confusion, fear and lust. To him you looked like a beautiful oil painting, so many different things happening at once and he got to be the observer. The artist even, controlling what you felt next.

“Donnie” You whispered.

“Shh baby. I’ve got you now.” There was an element of comfort in his voice but mainly possession. A wider grin played on his face as he said those words, violently bringing his lips to yours once again.

The feeling of his long fingers inching closer up skirt and thighs made you want to cry out and tell him exactly where to touch you. But you didn’t.

The slight pressure from his veiny hand wrapped around your neck and the near brushes to your clit through your underwear, were getting you so worked up.

“Donnie, please.” you whispered against his lips, your voice quiet and needy.

He practically growled in response “Oh now you want me? Such a slut.”

As you whimpered underneath his tough he chucked into your ear. “Bet he couldn’t make you feel this good.”

You came quickly under his palm, your head was a mess. There was so many emotions running through, it was like ecstasy. He was a drug.

“Mhm, good girl. If only you hadn’t been so stupid, could have had this ages ago.”

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to your lips.

Taking them into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his fingers while he starred at you intently, made him throb hard.

Snatching his fingers from your lips he grabbed your jaw harshly.

“Now be a good girl and sit.” He motioned to the spot on the floor between his legs. “Cmon baby, sit.”

You obligated, desperate to hear him feel good. Desperate to win his approval by being the cause of his pleasure.

Sat on your knees in between his thighs, he sat on the couch and wiped the mess from the corners of your mouth with his hand. The same hand in which his fingers had been inside you.

Reaching for his zipper, his hand caught your wrist tightly as he peered down at you.

“Did I say you can touch me?” From your angle he looked so much bigger than he was.

You huffed out a small whine, “Please can I touch you Donnie. Please?” You looked up at him with doe eyes, it used to work on him when you wanted him to do something for you. Usually homework. And it did.

He now brought his lips in between his teeth, admiring how pretty you looked on your knees.

He nodded his head and you quickly undid his zipper and brought his jeans down to his ankles.

The hard erection confined to his underwear made your mouth melt. You kissed him over his tight underwear and he groaned quietly.

Staring up at him innocently, he nodded his head, giving you permission to take off his underwear. Immediately you pulled down his underwear and grab him by his base.

You licked him from his hard base to his red tip and started to kitten lick around the top of his cock.

Donnie breathed heavily and grabbed your hair into a make shift pony tail roughly.

“Stop teasing (y,n) or I swear-“

The warning was enough for you to cut him off by taking him into your mouth suddenly. You bobbed your head and licked his veins as his grip on your hair got tighter.

“Fuck. Gonna cum soon. Look at me.”

He pushed you onto his dick deeper, it violently hitting the back of your throat as your eyes watered.

The sight sent him over the edge, shooting his cum down your throat as you swallowed submissively.

He let go of your hair and offered his hands to help you up, once again wiping away the mess he’d made from your lips with his finger.

“It was nice to see you again (y,n).”

(Not proof read) 🙏

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal smut #donnie darko #donnie darko smut #slight enemies to lovers #babysitting

[simpingland]

I have a request if you so feel like writing it, please <3

Aegon Targaryen x Male!servant!reader! Where Aegon falls for one of the castle servants because reader is one of the only people that shows him kindness (because mutual pining) and it leads to them having secret nights together but it's just really fluffy with reader just cuddling Aegon, peppering his face in kisses, telling him how pretty he is 🧎🏻.

(Ik he's not everyone's favorite but if he wasn't the way he was honestly his face is too cute to me I need to coddle him)

Honesty// Aegon Targaryen x reader.

Summary: life is hard for Prince Aegon. Only when a servant appears to care just enough for him, Aegon seeks this company,not knowing it's a reciprocate feeling.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You walked carefully through the castle you had yet to explore, to the chambers where Aegon awaited. Of course there was only one cup on your tray. Could the rumours of the Prince's fondness for wine and food be true? You had not spent too much time on gossip, the position of servant was a privilege for you, and the Targaryens were the most interesting family you could work for. Though you were not yet aware of the cruelties that were committed among them.

Already outside you could hear loud voices rustling inside Aegon's room. It was late afternoon and there was movement in the court, and even then you could still hear Otto Hightower shouting up the stairs. Had it not been for the guard opening the door you would not have dared to enter. The room was quite dark, lit only by a few flickering candles. The place smelled of wine and there was not a single tidy corner. The Prince was nowhere in sight, and Otto seemed to be talking to the end of a bed.

"Needless to remind you that you should dress nicely for the visit," the Hand finished. "If we are careless you are capable of attending dinner naked."

He left, giving you a brief glance and completely ignoring your presence. And after the door slammed, you saw at last the boy you had come to serve rise.

He was, as his grandfather had feared, covered only by his trousers, and though he knew of your existence by his quickness in pouring himself a drink from the tray, he gave you neither a word nor a glance. Then you saw that what they said about the Targaryens was true. They had a distinctive look about them, and a strange, striking aura about them, though Aegon, with his dirty hair and dark circles under his eyes, was not the image that the legends portrayed.

"You can leave the tray wherever you like. It's not like I'm going to eat it..." the prince spoke, turning his back to you.

You looked around the room for a second. You couldn't find a single gap.

"You can stay as well... I see you feel like it, I honestly don't care" he said again. This time he did look at you, out of the corner of his eye, and with a confused expression.

"You should eat between drinks, my Prince. It helps to slow-"

"How dare you tell me what I 'should' do?"

You swallowed hard, everything the prince had not imposed on you moments before he was imposing on you now. His sad eyes darkened.

"I would never, my Prince. It's just..." you groped at the idea. To be honest or to be just another servant, compliant and passive. The latter was not in your nature. "You have a fine dinner pending. And this wine, my Prince, is among the worst in your cellars. You will come to the table stumbling."

You expected to be thrown out of there at that very moment. At what point did you think to say such a foolish thing to a prince? The pity he gave you had come out in that unbidden council. Luckily, the prince just laughed. He laughed loudly and waited for you to laugh, though you could only smile, which seemed to soften the Targaryen. Nodding, he picked up one of the shinier apples and took a good bite.

"You're right, I'll enjoy the fine wine they serve at the table."

He sat looking out the window as you stood back with the tray. He turned as if he had seen you for the first time.

"How come you're still here?" he asked, a sympathetic tone now.

"I just don't know where to put the tray, my Prince."

"You know, I think you're a servant with real balls. Sit here next to me. You've earned a share of this apparently shitty wine." He awkwardly placed a chair next to him, and when you sat down he watched you balance the tray on your lap. He picked it up and deposited it on the same floor. "We'll have to share a drink."

"You don't mind sharing a drink with me?" you had to hide your shocked smile.

"Why would I mind?"

"Because I am a servant, and you are a prince..."

"I don't know how far my royalty and divinity goes. And as for you being a servant... I honestly don't care. Do you think it's wrong for me to share a drink with a servant?"

"Well, I wouldn't share it with the castle blacksmith. Every time I see him he has fewer teeth, and sharing a cup with him might mean that the next one he loses I end up swallowing."

He laughed again, passing you the cup. His smile made him simple, and somewhat charming in contrast to his soft, masculine voice. And amidst the foolish talk, it grew dark, and it was only when they came to dress him that you were allowed (or rather obliged) to leave, as one of the older servants reminded you.

You were able to attend the dinner, passing food and drink, of course. And the Prince was late. Handsome, but late. He walked lazily, and gave no greeting or smile for any Lord or Lady, though when he saw you in a corner, his face lit up with excitement. As he sat down, he called you to his side with a deft wave of his hand. As you bent down to listen, his voice whispered in your ear, and you could smell the soap with which he must have been bathed earlier.

"Give me a taste of that good wine I've been waiting for."

You took the vase to him, and he held the cup himself.

"I hope it was worth the wait, my Prince."

He savoured it, looking at you sharply, and let out a satisfied sigh, savouring his drink.

"Yes...it was worth it."

The length of the dinner was far too long, and you made it through with the sole entertainment of your work and Aegon's not-so-disguised expressions, which made you smile from your post. Though you could not help but notice all the reproaches that both Otto and Alicent - and Aemond in particular - had for Aegon. And there came a time when you no longer wished to refill the Prince's cup, for you saw his eyes grow cloudy with each refill. And the decanters would run out and someone would change them back, not surprised at how much wine a single person used up.

Back in your room, you were minutes away from sleep, when someone called you up to Aegon's chambers, for he required the presence of the new servant. And though you were not required to, you took water and grapes with you.

"You requested for me, my Prince?" you asked in a whisper, assuming the man to be half asleep, unable to stand on his own two feet in such a drunken stupor.

Indeed, he was lying on the rug on the floor in front of the fire, all his clothes on except his shoes, which he had left lying in different parts of the room. "How did you know I was thirsty? Did I ask for the water?"

"No, my Prince. But I imagined it." You got down on your knees to be more on his level, and he repositioned himself better to drink from the leather bottle. You watched as his hair fell prettily, avoiding brushing it aside. When he finished drinking, he watched you for a second.

"I never asked you what your names were."

You waited a second to check that he wasn't asking in jest, but you found his attentiveness very convincing, and you couldn't deny him the answer.

"I like it...though not as much as the wine at dinner."

"That I had noticed, my Prince."

Though you smiled, something went out of him.

"Am I as pitiful as my family says I am?" he asked in a whisper. You had been honest with him all this time, even if you tried to be good. And now it was hard to lie to him, but seeing him broken like this hurt even more.

"My opinion, if I may, is that they don't treat you fairly...we can't all act perfectly under such pressure."

He put down his drink and focused on looking at you. He was still drunk and you could tell by how heavy his eyelids seemed to be. You noticed how his hand was placed on your knee for a moment, and as you looked at it you saw him place it on your neck, in an ill-advised attempt to caress your face.

"Why are you so nice to me?" he whispered.

"Because...someone must be."

Aegon grinned, like a child being tenderised by a gentle animal. He leaned, though one might as well say slumped, into your torso, head sinking into your chest.

"My Prince, you should eat and drink before you sleep."

You heard him sigh, and helped him upright. He looked up at you and you gave him a look of approval as he took a couple of grapes to eat. Suddenly he did something strange. He put them in your hand again, slowly, and without taking his eyes off yours for a second. You knew what he wanted, and as he put the first one to his lips, Aegon picked it up, brushing his mouth with your fingertips.

"They are good," he said.

Your breath caught, and you had to give him a second, and a third and a fourth and the whole bunch trying to hide your trembling. And when he finished, Aegon had a drop of the juice dripping down his chin. When you wiped it away, you took the opportunity to caress that soft skin.

"Now you should go to sleep," you asked, your voice groggy from so long in silence.

He needed your help to get up, and as you opened the bed for him, he just clumsily removed his most annoying clothes. He rushed to his quilt and turned to look at you. You offered him a last drink of water, but Aegon only gently took the arm with which you offered it.

"I want you to stay here with me," he confessed.

"You are still drunk, my Prince, you are not thinking straight."

"I may still be drunk...but I know I want you to be with me."

"Is that an order?" The question was in jest, but Aegon released your arm slowly, and seemed to move away from you in his bed.

"Is it that I could only convince you to stay if I 'command' it to you?" his question was laden with pain. And it pinched your heart to see him like this because of you.

"No, my prince, it's just...it's my first week here. I want to make a good impression...in any other circumstances I would not have left your side."

You spoke honestly, as Aegon had discovered he liked you. And how did he know? By something special in your eyes, which he thought about all night.

"Call me Aegon, please... when no one will hear, at least." He asked.

"I will, Aegon."

That was one of the few nights you slept alone in the castle. In the days that followed, Aegon would summon you to his room, with some excuse like he liked your way of serving more than any other servant, like he needed a snack between meals. But really he was only pleased to see you near. He began to ask you to accompany him to places where he was needed, as his cupbearer. And there, he would approach you whenever he wanted to talk, even for a moment, with you. You smiled at him from afar, and Aegon seemed to come to his senses knowing you were there. Soon he promoted you, asking you to be the one to organise his clothing, to accompany him on the little trips Otto arranged for him. And he understood every refusal you had to stay the nights with him. It was a strange suggestion, and one that would make you an outcast among your peers. But at the same time, every night it became more and more difficult to say goodbye to him. He had lost that chronic drunkenness, Aegon now spent more time talking to you than taking endless sips from his cup.

The first night you didn't return to your own room began with a stain. Aegon did not finish his drink, engrossed in his grievances towards Aemond, and fully full from the supper he had just finished. And with its owner's consent, you drank the last of the wine. And then you spilled the last drops on the white shirt of your uniform.

"If my Grandsire sees you in that uniform he'll let you know what he thinks, I'm afraid," Aegon said, smirking.

"I'll tell him it's your fault...I've stained myself because I've been drinking, and I've been drinking because you haven't and it's a sin to waste food and drinks" you joked back.

"I guess that's true. Here, let me help you."

He wet a garment from the many he had scattered about, dipped it in water and walked over to you. The stain was on the collar of the shirt. You could hear the sound of the cloth rubbing, and Aegon seemed really intent on his task. You were so close to him that you could smell his hair, his light dragon scent that you were beginning to like. Maybe it was because your heartbeat began to multiply, or because your chest was heaving as you breathed in and out in a choppy way. The thing is, Aegon eventually realised, and decided to take a second before looking you in the eye. When he did, he was sure, but he waited for you to be sure.

"Go ahead," he whispered, the vibrations reaching your lips. "I've always enjoyed your honesty."

Then you kissed him, something Aegon had expected all along. He responded instantly, nuzzling your neck as you pulled him closer to you. It was a fierce kiss, full of Targaryen fire at first. And it had to be the clutter of the room that broke you apart, as you nearly fell to the floor over shoes that Aegon had once again left abandoned in unsuspecting places.

"Would it be too bold to ask you to stay here tonight?" You asked, somewhat apprehensive after the parting. Aegon's smile only grew.

"No... by the gods, stay."

And so the first night passed, snuggled in that huge bed the prince had. He trusted you enough to show you the secret passages that connected to his room. By day, you kept a short distance, which could be suspicious to those who looked. A few caresses that Aegon could not suppress or your quickness to come to his side when he mentioned you. Aegon loved to tell stupid jokes every second, that was his way of making sure that you woukd laugh and awarded him with kisses all around his face. You just couldn't pick a favorite place, they were all pretty. Guards could see you hiding in pillars, where you or Aegon couldn't help but kiss to make it clear that both of you wanted each other too much to wait for the privacy of the Prince's chamber.

But your favourite night was the one when Aegon found your room, at the bottom of the huge castle. Tears were shed before meeting you, and he came to seek your comfort, knocking stealthily at your door.

The kisses you shared in those moments were your favourite, for Aegon had a special sweetness. Your love and touch was the only thing that eased his pain.

"Be honest with me," he asked, lying on your chest. "Do you love me as much as I love you?"

"Oh, my Prince...now that you've saved me from climbing so many stairs to your room, rest assured I do."

He chuckled with relief and kissed your neck tenderly before falling asleep.

A/N: I do not support Aegon's conduct on the series, so we will pretend it didn't happen here...he's gay and cooler here. And I do think TGC is unfairly handsome, I love putting gifs (that aren't mine) of him.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii x oc #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #tom glynn carney

[leezlelatch]

There seems to be some discourse lately about content, the kind of content, and the community as a whole. Now, the last thing I want to do is stir up anything, but I had some thoughts that I'd like to type out, and I appreciate whomever decides to read it.

The purpose of this band is to make us happy. You've heard it time and time again, as long as we go home at the end of that show feeling just a little better, then TF is satisfied. And it seems like lately that happiness is hard to achieve here, on twitter, or wherever else one is active.

On Headcanon

Were you sitting at work today? Home? And suddenly that thought popped into your head, a little scene playing out about Copia, or Terzo, or Secondo, or Primo. A thought that filled you with excitement, butterflies dancing in your belly, which had you smiling because yes, in the world that makes you happy, that is what they are like. That is what they do. That is what they say. It's an amazing thing and it's good and okay, and you should be excited about it. Because you just added another chapter to the amazing story in your head. And you decide to post about it, but...someone left you an anon. Someone left you a comment. Someone vague posted. And it hurt.

This is happening far too often across tumblr, and it needs to come to a close. I understand that we all have vastly different ideas of who the Papas are and how the Ministry works, but that does not give a single one of you an excuse to say anything untoward or foul to anyone else on this platform. And this isn't talking about any particular group because more often than not, posts like this are used to justify the actions of others. You do not have permission to use this to further your agenda. Be kind. Choose to ignore that fic. Choose to stay off that person's blog. Stop making posts at the expense of others just because you don't like a particular aspect of their world.

I promise you'll still be able to sleep at night.

On F! Reader and x Reader Fic

I have seen many posts since I joined tumblr to write for the Ghost fandom that express a dislike toward reader fics, and in particular f! reader fics. I can't speak for anyone else, but I'd like to just reflect on my own thoughts on the matter, and once again, I appreciate the time taken to read and perhaps understand where I'm coming from, and know that it is a place of care.

I am a woman. When I write fic, I am writing it to satisfy my own little world in my head. So naturally, I am going to make the reader female, because the universal you is not only the friends I share it with or those kind enough to read, but the you is me. Every sweet word whispered, or gentle touch from a Papa is something I wish would happen to me.

I do not have the right to invade someone else's perspective. I do not understand what it is to be a gay man. I do not understand what a trans person experiences every day, and therefore, I do not feel like it is my place to write these perspectives in an x reader fic, or more so than that, in smut. And otherwise, I'm just not comfortable in doing so. I know my experience, and isn't the first step of writing, writing what you know?

I want there to be inclusivity in writing, but that doesn't start with attacking other authors for writing from their own perspective. It doesn't start with making hostile posts about reader fics, because what's the outcome? You just end up with some people very hurt and unwilling to post their stories because they think it's unwanted.

If you feel comfortable exploring these topics, talk to your mutuals. Say hey, what can I do to gain a better understanding of the content that I'm writing? What can I do to ensure that I'm not fetishizing due to my lack of knowledge? Be a community, and help each other out.

On Notes and Reblogs

A note is not the value of your writing. Whether you receive just a few or hundreds, you have impacted someone. Someone loved your story. Someone is thinking about your story all day. Someone was able to make it through because that one thing line you wrote spoke volumes to them.

We put so much of our energy into worrying about notes that the reason we started writing in the first place is lost. It becomes a chore. There are a hundred WIPs sitting in our folders because it becomes so goddamn painful just to work on one.

No one owes you a reblog. No one owes you a like. And even though it's nice, and it's gratifying to see nice comments on something you worked hard on, notes cannot be used as a currency between followers or mutuals. It just becomes a poison. Your entire tumblr experience is going to be marred by the constant worry that you aren't good enough just based on a number.

Learn to appreciate the ones who do read. Allow your story to make you feel good because there it is! That thing you've been thinking about. It's written down. You brought it to life. That is far more valuable than a tumblr note.

If you've reached this point, thank you. Everything you're feeling is good, and okay, and we're gonna get through. Because even now? When it feels like things are more hostile than happy? You still have Ghost. And you still have everything.

#the band ghost #the band ghost community discourse #discourse #x reader fic #f reader fic #ghost headcanons #notes and reblogs #thoughts

[rosie-zia]

Luca Kaneshiro x Reader

A/n: After being on hiatus for eight months, I decided to go back and write stories again. This fanfic is an inspiration from Luca Kaneshiro's cover of "Honeymoon Un, Deux, Trois." This is a very long one so I hope you enjoy! :^) Word count: 2.3k+

Luca Kaneshiro was famously known as the evil mafia boss around the city and in the streets. Most people fear Luca because of the stories they have heard about his crime syndicate, but only a few knew he was like every other married man with a wife behind the closed doors of his manor. His beloved spouse was none other than you, Y/n Kaneshiro.

Luca didn’t see himself getting married so soon; however, it all changed when his father laid eyes upon you. You were known as the daughter of an elite mafia boss hailing from another country. Naturally, Luca’s father thought it was a good opportunity to create a strong alliance between two powerful organizations. Thus, a pact was formed and an arranged marriage took place. Despite you and Luca being against this whole ordeal, you two had no other choice but to go through it, and the rest was history.  In the beginning of your marriage, it was awkward as you two tried to adjust in spite of the pressure since you and Luca perceived marriage only as business and not as love. If needed, both of you would do your best to present yourselves as husband and wife in front of other mafias at every gathering and every meeting. When you and Luca fully adapted in the ways of matrimonial life, you two ended up catching feelings but were just too scared to tell the other. 

Luca saw you as nothing but a simple woman who has been involved with the dark side of the law, but his eyes were slowly opened and realized there was more to you. He highly thinks of you as a sweet lovely lady with kindness and beauty unlike any other. Your simplicity and grace immediately caught his attention that made him fall for you so hard that he feels he lost his breath every time he sees your bright smile. The blonde man doesn’t know how to express his love, so he only does it in which way he knows best: giving you materialistic things.  Ever since you married Luca, he often showered you with luxurious gifts that filled your entire room. From small trinkets, expensive clothing, and everything in between. As the recipient of his gifts, you were slightly overwhelmed how your husband provides you such an extravagant lifestyle. It felt like a one-sided marriage for you, so you did your best to be an obedient wife that takes care of the house and his needs while also involving yourself in the mafia business. Even though your marriage with Luca was mostly a smooth sailing, there had been some disputes that happened between you two. Lately, you have gotten yourselves in a heated argument with Luca, and it has been bugging you ever since.

_______________________________________

*Flashback*  “Luca, please let me know if you are in a bad condition from your missions. Don't try and hide it from me.” You and Luca are in the bathroom as you tried to tend his wounds carefully with bandages and ointments. He just returned home from another mission and unfortunately got hurt. The blonde man tried to ignore the pain and hide it from you but failed to do so as you caught him red-handed from the moment he stepped into the house.  “You don’t have to worry about me, Y/n. I’ll be fine.”  “But you are hurt right now, Luca. I worry about you sometimes… you should not let yourself get hurt like this.”  Every night, you mostly worry about him whenever he takes dangerous missions in the Kaneshiro mafia to the point you would always pray he will come back safe and sound. Although you sounded genuinely concerned about him, something about it irritated Luca into thinking you didn’t trust him enough to do his work “I said I’ll be fine, Y/n. Geez, you’re making me sound like I’m just a kid. You have no idea on what it is like to be in my position. Just mind your business will you?”  This led you two to argue for thirty minutes straight until he had enough and walked out. He may have looked irritated but deep inside, he felt like he hurt you. He ended up realizing that you were just looking out for him, but it was too late to take everything back. In that moment, he knew he had to make things right before it was too late.

________________________________________

After thinking about the events that happened that night, you were immediately snapped back to reality as one of Luca's men laid a ball gown with other fancy accessories that complimented the dress. "Greetings, Mrs. Kaneshiro. I was given an order from the boss to deliver his present to you. He wants to be present for the ball this evening. It will start in a few hours, and Mr. Kaneshiro will be escorting you to the party."

His bodyguard bowed down in respect and walked out the room to leave you alone to prepare for the ballroom party that will be hosted by Luca himself. You have no idea what is the special occasion celebrated in this event, but you assumed it was just a simple gathering to get more influential connections in the mafia.

You don't feel like going to that party, but Luca's small lion cub, Augustus, helps you raise up your spirits as he lets out small growls.

"You're so lucky that you don't have to attend a party with so many people. I wish I could just stay with you in bed."

You gently pet Augustus in which he gives out one of his toothy smiles. You knew very well that not showing up at the party is clearly not an option. Not wasting anymore time, you started your makeup routine to look good for the party. You're just hoping for the best that you will survive at the end of the day.

_______________________________________

You and Luca arrived at the ballroom before the event started as you two waited for the guests to arrive and made sure everything was in order. As always, you two will put up a face as a married couple in front of all the mafias who will be attending this gathering. One by one, you both greeted all of the guests with a smile on your faces while linking arms with each other. It may look like you and Luca are the perfect married couple and yet you both still did not resolve the argument that happened yesterday. You sighed to yourself and let Luca properly welcome the guests in his honor. When all of the guests had arrived, Luca clinked his glass to get everyone's attention. "Good evening, dear friends and loved ones, and thank you for attending tonight's ball here in my manor. I just want to celebrate a very special occasion that is very important to me. I do hope you all enjoy this night. May the party commence!"

As Luca finished his speech, all of the mafias and other guests talked away and enjoyed the party in their own ways. The gathering felt lively under the bright lights of the chandeliers in the ballroom. With the lively aura in the party, you're still confused on the special event Luca failed to specifically mention. You stayed beside Luca as he conversed with other mafia bosses until you felt like you're out of place. You excused yourself from Luca, and went somewhere else to get a breather and away from the crowd. The party was still going, and Luca can't help but steal glances once in a while to see how you are doing. He sees you by the balcony being alone by yourself with a glass of champagne in your hand. Luca knew how you can't deal with handling big crowds like this, but something about you was different from the way you look. He may be oblivious to most things but his thoughts went back to yesterday's fight, and he takes the blame for not considering your feelings.

________________________________________

After hours of dancing and drinking among the guests, the guests waved goodbye to you two and went to their respective homes. Finally, all of the guests have left, and you went back inside to close the lights in the ballroom and call it a night. The grand mechanized clock chimes to let you know it was quarter to midnight, giving you the signal to close the ballroom doors. Before you even got the chance to do so, you heard the orchestra on your left begin to play their instruments, producing an enchanting-like melody. You were about to stop them but you caught something from the corner of your eyes. Lo and behold, it was your husband by the grand staircase in all of his glory.

The heels of his shoes clicked as he made his way towards you. Something about him right now feels different than he usually carries himself. His lavender eyes seem more gentle, his outfit exactly matches the gold accents of your dress, and his overall appearance was much more dazzling compared to what he looked like during the party earlier.

Luca bowed slightly and brought the back of your hand against his lips to give it a small kiss which made you a bit flustered by the gesture. He uttered a few words that made you caught in a trance from how his voice dripped like honey.

"My dearest and beloved wife, shall we dance?"

---------------------------------------- Now playing: Honeymoon Un, Deux, Trois - Luca Kaneshiro Cover ----------------------------------------

Before you can properly process his words, Luca gently grabs you by the waist and sways you along with the music, taking the lead between you two. You let his fingers entwine with yours, and his hand fitted perfectly, letting your bodies become one. Under the dim lights in the ballroom, his features radiated perfectly, capturing the essence of the mafia boss before you. He also starts to sing along with the instrumental playing in the background in a foreign language you've never heard him speak before.

You may not understand most of the words he's singing, but you felt addicted to his voice like he was casting you under a deep spell you cannot ever break free from. It felt like a fairytale as he pulls you in twists and turns, also letting you have your way in the waltz of love. Every step you both took, you both were in sync with the song he's singing.

Never in your dreams he would act genuinely romantic towards you. This was the side of Luca you thought you would never witness, and here you are dancing with your husband in this empty ballroom. The moonlight illuminates the golden hues of the marble tiles beneath you two which makes it the perfect night for lovers exactly like you and Luca.

As he finishes up his song, he romantically dips you, and then pulls you back up. You wished it lasted longer, but you redirected your attention to Luca once more when you felt his fingers caress your hair to the side of your face.

"Y/n, I just want to apologize for last night. I'm sorry for being a jerk and not considering your feelings. I should have let you know that I took dangerous missions like these in the mafia. Could you forgive me?"

He says as he looks at you directly with tears in his eyes that are threatening to spill in a moment. With a sigh, you managed to forgive him.

"Alright, I forgive you, Luca. If you're hurt, please let me tend to your wounds after your mission, is that clear?

"Yes, I promise, Y/n..."

You both laugh while basking in each other's presence. It didn't take long before your laughter became silence... and silence became awkwardness. You knew you had to do something, so after debating with yourself, you decided to break the silence between you two.

"T-thank you for the lovely dance this evening. I still don't get why you hosted a party without any special occasion."

Up until now, you still don't know what the celebration was all about, to which Luca only replied with a smile on his face.

"It's our first wedding anniversary, Y/n. I thought I could celebrate it with you."

Hearing Luca's response made you so embarrassed and flushed that you forgot it has been one year ever since you married Luca. Now it was your turn to apologize to him.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Luca. I didn't know it was today. I have completely forgot about it, I-"

Your husband just chuckled and placed a finger on your lips, shushing you and stopping you from rambling such nonsense.

"It's alright. I know you don't see our marriage in a romantic sense but I wanted to tell you that I love you. I'm glad that I have you as my lovely wife."

He then proceeds to cup your face with his hand and pulls you by the waist with his other arm as he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. When you two pulled away, you ended up confessing how much you love him as well.

"I love you too, Luca. I'm also glad that I married you. You will always have my heart."

At that moment, you felt your hearts have become one. From this day forward, the marriage you have with Luca has gotten stronger from just business to pure and unadulterated love. Feeling so many positive emotions all at once, you just held him close to you just savoring this moment.

"Shall we dance the night away one more time, my lady?"

"Yes, Luca, we shall."

The grand clock chimed once more, telling you both it has struck midnight, but you just stayed there with the prince of your dreams without a care in the world and living the fairytale you truly deserve.

________________________________________

A/n: Thank you so much for reading this fanfic, and yes, I do Luxiem fanfics and possibly other Nijisanji members. I'm trying to explore and write more characters. If you liked this one, I might probably write more in the future, but it might take a while since I'm busy with school and other things. If you wish to chat me and give me some ideas for future fanfics like this, I would gladly accept them. See you in the next fanfic! ^^ - Rosie Zia

#luca kaneshiro x reader #luca kaneshiro fluff #nijisanji en #luxiem x reader #luxiem fluff #nijisanji fluff

[ja3honey]

Creamy | Seonghwa

「Synopsis」 : After disappointing your totally not possessive boyfriend. You try your hardest to get forgiveness out of him.

「Word count」 : 1.4k

-> Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff.

Paring: Mommy!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

[Warnings] : food mentioned, slightly DDLG vibes but in this case it's Mommy instead. Food play. Whipped cream. Making out. Hickeys. Swearing. Dirty talking. Possessive Seonghwa. Slightly mean Seonghwa.

Note: This is my first time writing something like this. But the wonderful @whatudowhennooneseesyou helped with the idea to write this. So thank you my love for this request! ♡♡

You were a good girl. You promised. And you knew that no matter how much you pleaded your case to him, he wasn’t going to listen. To be fair, you didn’t know that the random guy at the library you regularly visited was flirting with you. But when Seonghwa came along with you on this little trip, he was anything up impressed that you had never mentioned this disgusting waste of space. Seonghwa dragged you home straight after he saw enough. That was a week ago, and no matter how hard you tried to talk. Seonghwa ignored you, leaving you alone in the house or your room without anything as much as a pep. He was cold, and you hated it. You didn’t mean to upset him.

You were a good girl. You promised. So when the fifth night of being ignored comes around you wanted, no, you needed to put actions in your own hands. So you did what you do best. Dress to impress. Finding your favourite dress, pretty, pink, and white. It was a dress that Seonghwa got tailored just for you. It's one of a kind. And it was one of your prized possessions. It was the first gift he gave you when you first met. It holds so many memories for both of you. So you needed it for your plan. To gain Seonghwa’s forgiveness, of course.

Pacing around the room, you waited for Seonghwa to come home. He left a note saying he would be out late for work, making your anxiousness grow. He knew you hated when he didn’t talk to you. You missed his voice, the soft charm that rolls off his tongue. You even missed the sadistic nature that slipped off his tongue. God, he made you crave him so badly that you felt like you were going mad. But with the sound of the locked front door unlocking, your heart skipped. You sat on the floor on the soft white fluffy carpet that lays on the edge of your bed. You watched the door like a hawk, knowing he needed to come in there first to undress. The door opened slowly since he spent the last minute looking for you he became slightly uneasy, but as soon as his eye met yours, the anxiety was completely erased by the feeling of lust and curiosity.

“Hello, Mommy” The name nearly made his legs buckle, all his sinful thought going straight to his head. He kept his expression the same, though, not letting you have the satisfaction of knowing he was wrapped around your finger. He was obsessed with you. He craved you the same, if not more, as you. His obsession ran deep as it was the rot of most of his outbursts of anger.

He doesn't mean to become so angry at you but the idea of someone else touching you, having their way with you. Call him possessive. Heck, call him crazy for wanting to lock you up so you do not dare see the light of day. He wanted you all to himself.

"What do we have here, Puppet?" He chuckled.

"I.. I wanted to show you I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad. I truly didn't know what was going on. I..I'm sorry." He let you ramble out your apology. He found it amusing. His hand grazed your chin, making you stop immediately. You haven't felt his touch in a while, so it sent shock waves through you. His thumb ran over your cheek softly, lovingly before a half-pull made you whimper. He yanked your face up with his fingers digging into your jaw uncomfortably.

"It's okay, my puppet. You are just too stupid when filthy men try to take what's mine. Come, let's go have something to eat." And just like that, he let go of you entirely. He had just admitted it wasn't your fault but yet... You felt like you were still in trouble. Looking at your feet, you followed Seonghwa close behind him, heading to the kitchen. He helped you onto the counter, letting your legs dangle over the edge.

"What we doing?" You were curious about Hwa's sudden change in demeanour. He was so cold and angry, and now he seems unreadable like he is showing one emotion to hide his true emotion underneath.

"We are going to have a little fun. Since I've been neglecting you for so long." You wanted to believe his words, but something in the pit of your gut said his words are only the surface of his actions. You nodded to him, giving him a small 'okay'. His next move makes you gulp, seeing the whipped cream in his hands.

"Are you a good girl?" He steps in between your legs.

"Yes..." You whimper.

"Will do you anything I ask for?" His fingers reach for the zipper on the back of your dress.

"Yes..."

"Even if it might hurt. Even if it might cause harm to you or I?" He slips the flimsy material off your shoulders slowly. His fingertips graze your soft skin.

"Yes, Seonghwa. I would die for you. Anything you wish for is yours."

It was like your words made his brain short-circuit. You were willing to die for him? He had never heard anyone say that to him. God, you couldn't have become more perfect at this moment. Your dress falls off your top half, showing off the white lace that clung to your breasts. Seonghwa's eyes graze over your body, his left hand gripping your thigh while the other shakes the can tightly. He could never get over how beautiful you are. How delicious you look. All for him. And no one else.

He places the nozzle of the can against your collarbone, spraying some of the white fluffy cream onto your hot flesh. It was freezing, given it was in the fridge. The sensation brought a shiver and a low moan for you. His tongue wasted no time in licking up the sweet treat, leaving a nice bright red mark after he was done.

God, he could do this for hours. Never bored of the sounds you make. But as more clothing fell and skin became more sticky from the cream. Your hands gripped Seonghwa's bare shoulders.

"hmmm Mommy..." You wiggled on the counter, feeling yourself becoming hot and bothered over the teasing. He chuckled, picking your hand up to grasp it around the can.

"Your turn, Puppet." His voice was low with a hint of desperation. You looked at the can in your hand with hooded eyes. He had now just given you the power, so what will you do with it? You shook the can and sprayed some of the whipped cream on his neck, some of it sliding down over his nipple. You licked it up while sucking harshly on his neck. Your tongue fell down to his nipple to clean the rest off, but then an idea sparked from the pitched moan Seonghwa made.

You've never heard such a sound of Hwa. Heck, you didn't even know that he had such sensitive nipples. Oh, this would be fun. Spray some directly onto his nipples. You sucked them hard, making your lover almost whimper.

"F-uckk. Puppet... god." He gripped your hair, yanking you off his nipples, trying his hardest to catch his breath. If he didn't pull you off, he would have come in his pants then and there, and that wasn't something Seonghwa wanted. He needed to come in you or nothing.

"You are such a good baby. Such a good girl." He still pants between his words. "Now I need to fuck you." His words made you moan, pulling him in for a kiss. The first kiss you've shared in a while, you've become so desperate for his touch you think you might go crazy. And he could tell, thinking it's quite amusing how whipped you've become for him.

"You want that baby? Want me so deep inside you that you feel me for days?" He lifts you up off the counter, walking you over to the couch, cause he opted the bedroom was too far away.

"Seonghwa's, please, please, Fuck me..." You rambled through the sloppy kiss, feeling your back his the soft cushions. He climbed on top of you, wrapping one hand around your waist, while the other grips your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Even though he was mean and can be cold and cruel, he loved you so much that words couldn't even begin to explain it. He needed you like how he needed air to breathe.

"For you my dearest Puppet...Anything."

-

Ateez Masterlist

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[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Rose Thorn Blues | pt. 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Part One Masterlist

Summary: Begrudgingly, you let Peter Parker help you with the story. Even if it leads you two going undercover as a couple...

Word count: ~4k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Fake dating!! Banter. More Criminal activity. Swearing. A lil bit of tension.

A/n: Well, I thought I'd share this smaller part before I head on vacation. Sorry it's not longer, but I hope this holds over until I'm back home! Thank you for reading, and let me know your thoughts <3

“Should I be regretting this?” you asked, immediately shaking your head as Parker wheeled over to your side.

“Too late.” He grabbed your notebook from your hands, kicking his feet up on your desk as he began to read. His lips moved silently along with the words, each curved syllable whispering past his mouth. You looked away when his eyes flicked to yours, those lips tilting into a grin even as he continued reading.

His fingers flipped the worn page of your notes, leaving you to pick at the hem of your shirt while waiting for him to finish.

You pulled your legs closer to you, trying to focus on the material of your pants rather than the urge to draw yourself into your body. But your nerves flared at the edges of your senses, telling you made the wrong choice. And only once you were about to pretend to need coffee just to step away, Parker blew out a tight sigh.

He muttered out, “Christ…”

Swallowing down the jolt in your muscles at his words, you turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Is that good or bad?”

His hand scratched along his jaw, his gaze following the words before slowly rising to meet yours. “Uh, your research is… good. Really good. But this,” he said, gesturing to the notebook, “is pretty bad.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, that quiet doubt inside your mind growing ever so louder. Barely blinking, you stared off wondering where this could go. Where you could end up if you went through with it. Your attention only snapped back when Parker cleared his throat.

He watched you, your expressions, with no humor on his face as he whispered, “So, you really went to this warehouse… by yourself in the middle of the night?” His finger pointed at your notes that indeed held your observations from last night. Still, that didn’t stop you from trying to lie and come up with anything that wouldn’t incriminate you.

When you didn’t answer, instead glancing at your fingers intertwining, he scoffed. “You know you could’ve really gotten hurt going there alone. Or worse. I don’t think these guys play around.”

“I wasn’t alone. I talked with Spider-Man,” you said, as if that could convince Parker that your plan hadn’t been a bad idea. But he raised an eyebrow at you, a half-smile on his face.

“Yeah? Now you’re buddy-buddy with him too?” A ghost of a laugh escaped him, but his eyes hardened, not leaving you. “I’m serious, sunshine. Spidey’s not gonna be there to always save you. We gotta do this carefully.”

Choosing to ignore the unyielding tone his words were wrapped in, you grabbed your notebook back from him, your jaw set. “I know that, Parker. And I’m not exactly in harm’s way now that I don’t have any other leads. All he’s got is some BS fundraiser I can’t get into,” you said, sitting back in your chair. Silently, as you traced a finger down the writing you’d gone over dozens of times already, you grumbled under your breath about the rude receptionist you’d talked to about it.

“A fundraiser?” 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The collar of his long-sleeve shirt swooped down an inch, drawing your eyes to the shadow of his chest before nodding. He then asked, “What could we find out from that anyway? Not like Beaumont is gonna be any more truthful with those rich people than he is with the general public.” 

He brought the end of a pen to his mouth, beginning to chew on it before you could realize he took it from your desk. You just pressed your lips together, letting it go as he thought out loud some more — now beginning to spin in his desk chair.

“He’s hiding plenty of secrets as is, I’m sure there’s gotta be some that we could uncover by getting close, right? Maybe we could-”

“Parker! Where are those pictures you promised me!”

Jameson’s voice boomed through the office, sending the both of you jumping in your seats. Parker cleared his throat and called back, “Emailing them to you now, sir.”

Beneath the sound of Parker’s squeaky desk chair rolling back to his side, you heard Jameson swear  under his breath. You didn’t dare peek over the half-wall and risk getting yelled at too. Instead, as frantic typing came from Parker’s keyboard, you wrote on a post-it note, “Able to stay late. We can talk about this piece. In peace. Haha…”

You folded it in half twice before tossing it over onto his side and returning to research — even as it felt useless to do so. A small twinge of hope trickled up your spine, so subtle you barely noticed it before it reached the base of your head. A hope that Parker said yes. 

As another site turned up blank, you told yourself asking him was just to move this story along, even if it meant spending the evening with the intern you always seemed to stand in the shadow of. But this story could bring you over the top and show Jameson you deserved that job.

A few minutes later, a flash of paper flew from Parker’s side and landed right on your eye.

“Shit…” you groaned out, lightly rubbing your eye and blinking it repeatedly — all while you heard suppressed laughter from the other desk. Quietly, you muttered, “Dick,” and opened up the note. The only thing added to it was a poorly drawn thumbs-up.

With that settled, along with the weird relief at his answer that you shoved lower and lower, you worked on some of your assigned stories. One blurred into the next, all of them superficial enough to turn your brain fuzzy over the course of the work day. You wondered what Alice was working on and if they ever made her feel like this.

By the time people began packing up for the day, long after your mediocre lunch from the closest food shop, your head nearly felt numb. At least this story could be the break you needed from all this — all the unimportant parts of reporting, like who broke up with who, and how Spider-Man is somehow the reason for it. Again.

You rubbed a tired hand down your face, letting the warm darkness of it swallow you for a moment. Your head shot up finally once a granola bar clattered across your desk.

Parker’s head then appeared from around the half-wall, the wave of his dark hair looking ran through. “I stole it earlier today, but I think you need it more than I do, sunshine,” he said, pointing to the bar with a tilt of his head.

Your stomach growled as you grabbed it, ripping it open. “That’s such a stupid nickname,” you muttered before taking a bite, looking up at him with a half-assed glare.

“It’s more creative than you calling me ‘Parker.’ That’s just my last name.” He laughed, his eyes lighting up.

Quirking your head, you blinked slowly at him. “If I’m sunshine, then you’re moonshine. Makes sense too, cause I need to be drunk to even tolerate you, Parker,” you grumbled, finishing off the granola bar.

And before he could open that stupid mouth of his, you threw away the wrapper and said, “I think Jameson’s gone if we want to start on the story. We-”

“Now?” Parker’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you, his hand coming up to run down his neck. “Immediately vetoing. C’mon.”

Before you could ask any questions, he stood up and walked toward the doors, shouting over his shoulder, “Keep up!”

As much as your mind resisted listening to him, your eyes and legs definitely needed the break. So you followed after him, staring at his back as you made your way down the building’s steps.

Out on the sidewalk, the sun sat lower in the sky at this hour. Clouds scattered throughout kept the air from getting too hot, the feeling bringing a content smile to your face.

Blinking at him, you saw the way the sunlight showered down on Parker. The effortlessness of his hands sitting in his pockets and his hair laying perfectly messy — even his goddamn freckles glowing in the light — set a sparking anger in your chest. It only twisted, turned more sour, when he opened his mouth.

“You know… it’s not polite to stare at someone. Even if they are ruggishly handsome.”

A laughing scoff escaped your mouth, your eyes instead drifting across the crowd of people passing along the sidewalk. “I was just trying to figure out how your head fit such a little brain inside it. Does it just roll around like an acorn in there? Maybe a pea?”

Feeling the glare from his side-eye, you caught his growing half-smile. “Yeah? Could a pea-sized brain be smart enough to find us an actual dinner?”

“I mean… probably. But,” you said, tilting your head at him, “that’s not the worst plan you’ve had.” For emphasis, your stomach growled while you two walked down the street. And through grabbing carryout to eat back at the office, you made it a point to not stare at Parker — or do anything to give him a bigger ego than he already had. 

His often irritating words certainly made it easy enough, like now as he spoke in between bites of his food from the takeout box. “So, I’m thinking–”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

You let out a laugh as he flipped you off, the shaking in your shoulders helping lift a weight from them. At least it was easy to laugh with him — or at him.

With a pointed stare, he continued. “I’m thinking that we have to find the connection between Beaumont and spidey… man. Spider-Man. With that warehouse you nearly burgled.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him as he leaned against your desk. With your feet propped up next to where he sat, you ate your food from your desk chair. The office lay bare beside you two, your ID cards giving you access after hours. Unsurprisingly, the brainstorming hadn’t been terribly productive yet.

“I did not burgle anything… yet. But I haven’t seen anything between those two before. Maybe Beaumont’s just a big fan. He’s taking all our money just to grow his collection of supervillain memorabilia.”

Parker let out a quiet laugh. “Sounds like something Jameson would do.” 

You internally shivered at the idea of finding your boss’s secret stash of Spider-Man collectibles.

Silence slipped over the two of you, just the noises of eating and the building’s air conditioning as you both thought through the details. Eventually, he said, “So this Ellis Beaumont guy has to have some sort of conflict with Spider-Man, meaning we could research what crimes of Beaumont’s that Spider-Man has stopped.”

An unsure look overtook your face. “That’s way too many to look through — and it’s not like that information is recorded anywhere. This politician keeps things tightly under wraps…” you sighed, letting out a tired laugh that didn’t feel all that funny. “It feels like I’m right back where I started.”

“Could that fundraiser of his give us answers?” Parker asked, his eyes glancing at yours.

You hesitantly nodded as you swallowed your next bite. “Probably, since it’s at his house apparently. But without an invitation, we’re kind of shit out of luck.”

“So we get an invitation and do some snooping during the event. Easy enough.”

Parker had put his food down, and you did not like the growing smirk on his face. “Before you say anything,” he told you, “I know a guy. It’ll be fine — we’ll just dress the part and do some investigative journalism.”

“Oh, so it’s bad to check out a warehouse, but we’ll just crash the fundraiser of a member of the government body and suspected criminal? You’re insane.” A scoff escaped your mouth when he nodded. 

As you dropped your feet from the desk, you wanted to regret letting Parker in on this story or at least question who this guy was that could get you two into this fundraiser, but you had no better plan — or the guts to pull this off without him. 

“This has got to be pretty illegal…” you whispered.

Parker gave you a smile that both calmed you and let butterflies loose in your stomach. “Absolutely. But Beaumont committed the crimes first, so we’re just evening it out.” He crossed his arms, the fabric of his long sleeve wrapped tight around them. With an expectant look, he raised his eyebrows at you. “So, are you in?”

A minute passed as you thought, considering any other plans that wouldn’t end with the both of you in jail. But you came up with nothing. 

This better be one hell of a story. “Okay, fine. Let’s do this.”

“Great!” he said, clapping his hands together. “One more thing, though. We’re going to have to go as a couple. I’m thinking our last name could be–”

“Excuse me?” You cut him off, your eyes widening. Despite your mouth opening, nothing came out. You just dropped your gaze to the wall behind him as you let out a long breath.

“How else are we going to be convincing? All the other people joining are families or couples, right?”

He explained it so matter-of-factly. You understood, really. But pretending to be married to him while sneaking through a mansion? All for a ridiculous unpaid summer internship?

“Parker, have you come up with a torture plan?” You put your face in your hands, quietly groaning. You could be cordial with him and cautiously appreciate his (persistent) help on the story, but the idea of acting as a couple in love with him brought an uneasiness to your body. 

Would Alice approve? It felt again like you weren’t following your heart, which wanted to hide deep down behind your ribs.

Parker looked at you, his mouth pressed tight. “Hey, not exactly like getting down on a knee to you was my original plan here,” he muttered.

Still, you looked back at him, ignoring the intensity of his stare. “So what will our last name be?”

Bennet, it turned out, would be the last name on your IDs and invitations for the banquet in two days. Sam and Rose Bennet. 

During the days leading up, the two of you worked on regular assignments under the eye (and screaming) of Jameson. 

But if someone looked closely, they’d see your leg constantly shaking beneath your desk and Parker’s nails being bitten down to the bed. They might be able to hear the whispered comments between the two of you — most about what your story would be. They would even see the things neither of you could make out, like the unasked questions on the tips of your tongues or the pull that seemed to exist between you and Parker.

The story you decided on was high school sweethearts — private school, of course. Something arranged by your equally rich and philanthropic parents, whose money you’d be happy to donate to Stronger Together during the fundraiser. 

In reality, you both scrounged up enough money to rent nice enough clothes for the event and hoped that you wouldn’t have to pay for any extra damage. Besides the money concern, the risk of something happening to the clothes (and you, more importantly) weighed over your mind. Parker didn’t seem to have any worries, or voice them to you at least, about this whole plan going sideways.

So, you planned for it by yourself. Which exits would be best, which people you should probably stay away from. And you still didn’t ask how Parker exactly got you two into this, not that you were sure you wanted to know.

It didn’t even cross your mind the night of, not as you stood in your apartment, slipping on a floor-length gown that seemed to lay just right. Your fingers ran along your body, fixing things here and there until you were sure no rich politician would look twice at you and suspect something. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you weren’t sure you recognized yourself — or the idea you had of yourself. Maybe that was a good thing.

Your frayed nerves turned electric as your phone went off, a text from Parker letting you know he was here. For a minute, you hesitated. The constant thrumming in your chest clouded your thoughts, telling you something that you couldn’t quite make out.

As a second, more impatient, text came through, you gave one last glance at yourself and walked out into the hallway.

Each step to the front door in shoes that squeezed your feet much too tightly felt like a jolt to your heart. A breeze pushed past you as you walked out to his car — one that he’d have to park far away so the valet couldn’t see his shitty 2004 Honda Civic.

Parker stood leaning against the side of the vehicle, one hand scratching at his jaw and the other shoved far into his rented tux’s pockets. He stared down at his shoes, his vacant look telling you he also had a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

But as his gaze drifted up, connecting with yours, that worried crease between his eyebrows smoothed out, his hand dropping from his jaw down to his lap. Your steps slowed, your fingers clutching tight onto a purse you borrowed from a friend. 

Those honeyed eyes turned bright as a ghosting smile spread across his face. You took in the image of him staring at you in that tuxedo — one that you could tell he wasn’t used to if you looked too hard. Not that you were doing that, of course. Still, the expensive material sat nicely along his tanned skin from the summer sun.

Though, you couldn’t figure out what felt off about him until you came closer, the buzzing in your ears growing much too loud as you neared. Reaching a hand up, your eyebrows furrowed, you went to fix his hair. The caramel strands sat straight and slicked back. It didn’t look like he’d run his fingers through it a hundred times.

But as you felt his breath brush along your skin, saw the stillness of his body, you paused. Too close. Too much, even for a fake couple.

You dropped your hand by your side, begging your body to calm down. You avoided his eyes as you took a step back. “Sorry,” you whispered, maybe for the first time to him, “Your hair just looks so…”

“Stuffy? Obnoxious? Greasy?”

“Pretentious is what I was going to say.”

His tight laugh brought some sort of relief to your tense muscles, even as he pushed off his car and muttered, “Glad we both look the part then.”

You raised an eyebrow, staring at him while fighting a smile. “You know, Parker — or Bennet, I should say — a real gentleman would’ve opened my door for me.”

Right before he plopped down in his car, he said, “You’re lucky I’m even picking you up, Mrs. Bennet.”

Quietly, you let out a huff and got into the passenger seat. Your hands brushed along your dress, straightening it out.

As you picked off a stray piece of lint, you said, “I’m not sure this is the right way to start as a couple.” You tried to make your words sound easy, but it didn’t even sound convincing to you.

Parker began driving, keeping his eyes on the road as he drummed a finger along the steering wheel. “You’re right — but don’t let that get to your head, sunshine. Okay, when did we first meet?”

“We first met fifteen years ago, but we didn’t start dating until ten years ago when our parents put us together. Toward the end of high school…”

“Where we went to different colleges but made the long-distance thing work. Somehow,” he said, waving a hand as if it didn’t matter or no one would ask how.

“And now, using the money we’ve saved up through our parents’ endowment funds and-”

“Wait, what does that even mean?” you asked, realizing he came up with this without telling you until now.

“It uh… it’s something to do with donations. I Googled it — it’s fine. Anyway, we’re using that and their savings to give back like they have always wanted. Great, fool-proof.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded for a second before shaking your head. “Parker, that makes no goddamn sense. This is a terrible idea.”

“Well, we’re going to be there soon, so too late now.”

“It’s actually not too late,” you told him, your throat feeling tight. “Let’s just turn around, okay?”

“Hey,” he said as the car came to a stoplight. He turned to look at you, the shine of the light illuminating half of his face. 

His voice came out soft. “You nearly burgled a criminal’s warehouse, and you lied to a government official’s secretary, or something. This will be a piece of cake, alright?” Ever so quietly, a warmth bloomed in your chest, melting the cold fear that’d been wrapping around you. You gave him a short nod, making him give a tight-lipped smile and keep driving. “Great! Now, suck it up, sunshine, and come up with a better backstory. I can’t do all of the thinking in this marriage.”

A laugh bubbled up from your mouth. You rolled your eyes, even though your fidgeting had calmed down. 

With a long breath out, you said, “What about if my grandmother left me money in her will, and I’m honoring her memory by giving it back to the city she loved?”

“Not bad… and sorry for your imaginary loss. I think it’ll keep people from prying too much further.”

“I hope so,” you muttered, hoping this half-baked plan would work.

Eventually, Parker slowly rolled the car to a stop. He parked on a smaller residential road a few blocks away, but you could still see the lights shining into the sky from Beaumont’s place. His castle to overlook all the peasants of the city.

Your shoes clicked across the pavement, the two of you nearing the mansion. With each step, you tried harder to ignore your heart hammering louder. 

You breathed out a shaky breath when Parker held out his arm next to you. Hesitantly, you took it, wrapping your arm around his. Normally, you might’ve ignored the hardness of his body or the warmth seeping into your skin, but the solid, unyielding feeling of him brought some sort of grounding.

Leaning his mouth toward your ear, Parker said, “Which one do you think is going to pop first? The vein bulging from Jameson’s forehead or the huge one in his neck?” 

The laughs you let out were sharp and involuntary, a smile breaking out on your face. Looking at him, at the grin he sent your way, you said, “Definitely the one on his forehead. And you’re going to be the one to make him mad enough to pop it.”

“I’ll be sure to wear those plastic ponchos the next time I’m late.”

“So… Monday? We can pick one up after the fundraiser for you.”

The giggles underlacing your words slowly died down as you turned the street corner, your eyes catching all the other couples approaching the towering house. Valets stood at the front, taking car keys from guests before they came to the doors — guards standing on either side.

“You’ve got the invitations?” you whispered to Parker, your hold on his arm growing tighter. 

He quietly scoffed. “Of course I have them. Who do you think I-” His words stopped, his hands patting down his suit jacket for the invitation. Right as you felt your stomach threaten to curl in on itself, he flashed you a grin. “Just kidding, they’re right here,” he told you, grabbing them from his pocket.

With a forced smile plastered to your face in front of all these guests, you gritted out, “I’m going to murder you.”

“You are too funny, dear,” Parker said, or more likely, Sam Bennet said as the two of you walked up to the doorman holding his hand out for the invitations. 

The way Parker’s mouth curled around the affectionate name felt foreign at first, but the way the doorman looked at the two of you — as if you really were a happy couple — made it feel right. 

And that was it, that was all it took for a softness to flow over you and let yourself become Rose Bennet. For tonight.

@hollandweather @dil3mma @reidslovely

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #the amazing spider man #spider man x reader #spider-man x reader

[berryhobii]

Holly molly! I have just discovered you and let me tell you, you are fantastic. I think I speak for the readers when I say we can see ourselves though your work, and that makes us feel represented. Thank you so much! <3

I have an idea for a drabble, and since you are accepting requests I hoped you could write about it: a really independent reader having a horrible day but not wanting to let anyone know and fiance!Yoongi noticing and being her rock/support

Thanks for your request! Long haired Yoongi has been plaguing me for months and the thought that we won’t get that back for a while has me sliding down a wall😭😭enjoy this cute little thing about Yoongi being an awesome fiancé during reader’s small overstimulated breakdown. I also added a bathtub scene because why not?

~

Your horrible day started when you got to work that morning. You actually felt really good about how you dressed and did your hair today. It was a successful wash and go style. Months of trial and error had made you an expert in managing an effortless style. Apparently for your boss though, your hair wasn’t deemed “professional” for the workspace. He called it unruly and told you to get it together by tomorrow.

Then you accidentally spilled your morning Starbucks on your brand new blouse. The lid wasn’t all the way secure so when you lifted it to your mouth, it opened and got all over you. At least your pants didn’t get ruined and good thing you liked iced coffee instead of hot.

You kept backup clothes under your desk just for that though. The incident with your shirt caused you to be 15 minutes late to your meeting. It felt awkward as you slipped in the room, everyone’s eyes staring daggers into you as you shuffled to your seat. Thankfully, it wasn’t your turn to present so you still had a chance to impress them with your work.

But it also turns out that karma was an evil bitch because guess who left their flash drive in your laptop at home?!

Embarrassment couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt, your smile waning as you apologized for your mishap and promised to have it by tomorrow.

After a berating from your boss which was packed with micro aggressions, you went back to your desk to have a mini breakdown in peace which didn’t even get a chance to start since you found your chair gone once you got there. One of your coworkers explained that they needed extra chairs for a larger meeting so they “borrowed” yours. And was it just a coincidence that yours was the only one missing despite your desk being nowhere near the door?

Your brain was on overdrive, nerves overstimulated and tears ready to flow down your face. Everything was too much right now.

Deciding take a half day, you rushed out to your car, dropping your brand new scarf in a muddy puddle caused by the rain yesterday.

You wanted to scream so badly but you fought back the emotions. You’d be home soon.

Yeah. Home. That’s where you needed to be.

At least your parking spot was free…….and no it wasn’t. A moped was in its place. Great. Why the hell did those things even need full parking spaces? They were half the size of a car!!

You found another after double and triple checking it wouldn’t get your car towed because that would just be the icing on the cake.

Your apartment was warm when you entered, the scent of your favorite candles hitting your nose. That could only mean one thing…..

He was home.

Your body itched to seek him out and melt your worries in the warmth of his embrace, to let the world fade away under his nimble hands, and let your brain finally turn off as his deep voice lulled you to sleep.

But you couldn’t….

Growing up, you never had a very good support system. Your family often minimized your worries and needs, forcing you to care for yourself. You had no one to express your emotions to, no one to depend on in those dark moments. You only had yourself and while you convinced yourself that was okay, you knew deep down it wasn’t.

Then you met Yoongi. At first, you kind of ignored him, not feeling vulnerable enough to have a relationship yet. Your last one was with a guy who tried to guilt trip you into becoming a stay at home wife but that was never your style. You didn’t want to be dependent on someone like that. You wanted your own money and career to fall back on and develop. That guy kind of put you off relationships as a whole.

But Yoongi was never like that. He never tried to force you to do anything you didn’t want. He cooked and cleaned, did laundry and never complained. You did your part as well but even on those days where you didn’t, Yoongi would just pick up the slack. You’d always feel bad, insisting you’d do more housework but he’d just wave you off.

“It’s fine. I got it. I’m at home all day anyway. If you touch that broom, I’m gonna chain you to the bed but you’d probably like that.”

Yoongi was genuine. He never pressured you or made you feel like you needed to constantly be on guard.

A part of you wished you could be as laid back as him. He completed you. Calmed the storm that constantly brewed in you. Dissipated all of your irrational fears.

He was there for you. Always.

So why could you never stop that bubbling feeling that you were being too needy? Yoongi’s made it perfectly clear that you could rely on him to be a shoulder to cry on. You knew that. You did.

But you just couldn’t.

You could hear him clinking around in the kitchen, probably making himself some lunch. You could also hear music so there’s a chance he didn’t hear you come in the door.

You quietly shuffled through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom. Once inside, you softly closed the door, leaning against it as you felt your body ready to break down. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the day finally crushing you.

You inhaled a shaky breath, tears pricking at your waterline ready to fall but you held them back. You wouldn’t cry. Not over this.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 1,2,3. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.

A small knock to the door behind you made you pause.

Did he know you were home?

“Bubs, are you in there?” You used to think that pet name was so silly. Just use your actual name, right? But over the years, you’ve grown to adore it. You’ve never been called so affectionately before, not even by your parents.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Yoongi just hummed. You could hear a little bit of shuffling before it went quiet again.

“I went to the grocery store today and there was a sale on those bulk yogurt drinks you really like. I almost got shoulder checked by this grandma. I didn’t know old people could move so quickly.”

You felt yourself chuckle a little, your fingers twisting your engagement ring around.

“But guess who got the last pack of them?”

“Did you really fight a grandma for yogurt? You’re a grown man, Yoongi.”

“Hey, I wasn’t about to let an old lady punk me.” You could imagine his cute little frown and pouty lips. “Don’t worry though, I gave her my signature sandwich recipe and she gave me a coupon for some meat. We’re having chicken tonight.”

He was so ridiculous. So silly.

He was yours.

Slowly turning around, you grabbed the door handle and opened it, finding Yoongi sitting crossed legged on the floor. He stood when you came into his vision.

His long bangs were tied up in a little ponytail with a tangerine hair clip holding it back. To most outsiders and strangers, your fiancé could look cold and distant and he sometimes acted it but to you, you knew he was gentle and cute. The most compassionate and kindest person you’ve ever met.

You two stared at each other for a few beats before he slowly raised his arms, a wide and gummy smile making his eyes crinkle up.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. The dam finally broke.

You practically threw yourself into his embrace, the tears endlessly pouring from your eyes. Your fingers twisted in the back of his crewneck, holding him tightly as if you’d fade away if you let go.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, shushing you as he pet your hair gently.

“Today was awful, Yoongi! I s-spilled coffee on m-myself and I was late to my meeting…” You cried into his shoulder, words stuttering as you tried to talk through your tears. “And then I didn’t even have my flash d-drive and my boss told me my hair isn’t‘professional’, whatever that means….” His hand rubbed at your back, remaining silent to let you get everything out. “And I dropped my new scarf in a puddle and there was this dumb little moped in my parking spot! It’s just been an awful day!”

He kissed your temple, rocking you two side to side in an attempt to calm you.

“I know, bubs. It’s over now. I’m here.”

Yoongi let you cry, just holding you and whispering how much he loved you.

After your cries had dwindled to sniffles, Yoongi slowly pulled back to look at you. He pouted his lip at the sight of your wet lashes and red eyes. You looked drained.

His hands cupped both of your cheeks, gently rubbing his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the streaks.

“My poor baby. You must be so tired.”

You sighed shakily, fluttering your eyes closed. “I am.”

His forehead bumped against yours. “Why don’t I run you a nice bath? Then we can snuggle on the couch? How’s that sound?”

That sounded absolutely amazing.

You opened your eyes. “Will you join me?”

His smile was sweet and full of love. “Of course.”

~

Your body sunk into the warm water. You normally preferred your baths hot as hell but Yoongi had sensitive skin and you didn’t want to irritate that. The temperature of the water didn’t matter much when the heat of your beloved was pressed into your back.

His smooth hands ran all over your body—not in a sexual way but in a soothing and grounding way. Although your body did tingle when he grazed over your nipples.

“Do you feel a little better?” He asked, kissing at your shoulder.

You sighed, “yeah. Thank you, Yoon.”

“Anything, bubs.”

“I’m sorry I’m still kind of bad at coming to you. I was already overwhelmed and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Look at me.”

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, craning your neck to be able to make eye contact with him. And what beautiful eyes he had.

“Never apologize for that. If you need a moment by yourself, that’s okay. And when you’re ready to find me, come find me. I’ll never turn you away. When I proposed to you, I promised to help you shoulder all of your bad days and I meant that.”

You smiled, moving to press a kiss to his soft lips, your hand coming up to hold the back of his head. His hair felt soft underneath your fingers. “I know. Thank you. I promise to be there for you too.”

“You already are. Just do what you feel is right and when you need me, I’ll be there. You can ruin as many sweaters as I have.”

You snorted a laugh, rolling your eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. “You can love me.”

“I already do.”

“Good.”

…..

“Yoongi, are you getting a boner?”

“No.”

“I’m trying to relax, Yoongi! How can you get horny at a time like this? I’m getting out.”

“You’re pressed up against me naked! You should take it as a compliment. Come back!”

…….

“Does that mean bath time is over?”

“Get in here before I change my mind!”

“Yes ma’am.”

#bts #bts smut #bts x black reader #yoongi smut #askberryhobii

[kidney9-9]

Father Figures - Severus Snape

Anonymous asked: I love your Snape Stepdaughter can you do one where she gets drunk at a party and they get busted by him and she throws the “your not my dad” type at him when he tries to get her to go to bed before she has a hangover tomorrow no worries if not it is fime

Hey there, thank you very much! I hope you enjoy! I had no idea what to title it haha and please read the warnings before you continue. Requests are open but I get to them very late. I'm not writing as often as I used to! Enjoy :)

Stepdad! Professor! Snape x Reader [Platonic/Angst] Warnings: Underage alcohol usage, cursing, unstable family dynamics

-

Going to the Hufflepuff party was not your original plan, but after hearing your friends got busted for doing something stupid in the library, you decided to go to the party since you had nothing else to do.

You had a few acquaintances there, and you hung around them for a few minutes at the party before getting bored and going to the drink table.

“Hah, you’re seriously going to drink? Or you’re just stopping by to get some little kid juice?” Keith, an irritating classmate of yours, interrupted you.

You looked him up and down, before making a disgusted face. He was always on your nerves, wanting to be a rival of yours, but you always did your best to ignore him. But for some reason, today, you were feeling a bit too bothered by him.

“I’m obviously here to drink some alcohol, you dimwit.” You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a drink. It was a random mix, but you knew it definitely had some hard alcohol in here. Hufflepuff parties always had the best drink mixes.

“Even with your daddy around the school?” Keith sneered, and you took a moment to close your eyes and breathe in deeply to calm yourself down because you were so close to decking him in the face.

That was one of his go to insults. Professor Snape is your stepfather, and everyone knew you hated the fact he was your teacher.

“Shut up, you shit face, like you can even handle any alcohol.” You snapped and took a few gulps from your cup.

“Oh please, I definitely can handle alcohol better than you, I can practically already hear you slurring your words.” He spat back and took an unopened bottle from the bottle. “Let’s see who can drink more, loser.” He challenged you.

You raised an eyebrow at him, “Hm, really? Can you handle it?” You couldn’t help but love the offended look on his face.

“Fucking hell, I can.” He took two cups, opened the bottle, and poured an equal amount of alcohol into the cups. He pushed one your way and stared at you as he chugged it down. Then he slammed the cup down on the table and grinned sloppily, “There. See?”

You scoffed at him, “Pour yourself another. I’m not some girl who taps out after one drink.” Once you said that, you picked up the cup and drank it all within a few seconds. At this point, a few people were starting to form around the table with you two, watching the strange competition take place.

He did as you said, chugging another drink and then so did you, trying your best to hold back the disgusted facial expression from the twang of alcohol going down your throat.

“Guh, you guys are so gross drinking that straight up. Pour some lemonade in it or something.” Devon spoke up into the conversation, pouring herself a drink from the mix.

“Nah, I’m good without it. Go ahead if you need it, little girl.” He taunted you but you ignored him and drank the next drink, counting to three drinks for both of you.

Devon shook her head, “You guys are going to feel awful in the morning. Shouldn’t you slow down at least?” She did her best to try to persuade both of you, but you were feeling a bit too arrogant to listen to her.

“I’m doing this to prove a point to this asshole. I don’t need anything added to my drink.” You answered her. She shrugged and left the table, muttering something about a potion for hangovers.

You and Keith shared a similar look of distaste for each other before drinking another cup of alcohol. This time, you started to feel it in your system. You did your best to stop yourself from stumbling in place, so you leaned up against the table, almost sitting on it.

You both continued to spew insults at each other as some people cheered you on to keep chugging, which encouraged you greatly. You couldn’t let this weird ass beat you to a game of drinking.

Keith wasn’t looking too good at this point, you both were at drink 9 and he was blinking strangely, snorting, and coughing as he spoke to a few people in the crowd.

“Yeah, like when I got on a broom the first time, I did it perfectly. Flying is so easy, I don’t,” He hiccups, “I don’t get how people have a hard time with flying with brooms.” He burped and leaned against the table, looking at a few common friends nearby.

“No way, I very distinctly remember you crying harder than a baby when you first flew.” You interrupted his story, waving your hand in the air.

A few people laughed at that, and Keith scowled, “You weren’t ever better than that, too. I remember your daddy was watching from a window, like some creepy stalker.”

You scrunched your nose up because you had no idea Snape was watching the class. You rolled your eyes at Keith though, annoyed he brought up Snape. “You really like talking about him a lot. Unfortunately, he doesn’t like snotty boys like you.” You responded.

His jaw dropped, “You’re such a bitch. I might be gay, but I’m not gay for him.”

You stay silent for a moment before you burst out laughing, “Oh fuck, I didn’t know you were gay. That’s cool for you though. Thanks for letting me know you don’t want to fuck our professor.” The people around the two of you started laughing too, and he cracked a smile as well, obviously wanting to laugh too.

“Well. Nice to know you aren’t a total prick.” He said, finishing his drink. The two of you continue insulting each other for a few minutes, drinking even more to the point you’re used to the burn of the alcohol going down your throat.

You could even feel the music beating almost in sync with your heartbeat and you wanted to go to that crowd in the middle of the room and dance with them.

Within a span of a moment, the atmosphere grew dark, and people went completely silent. You were completely confused and looked at Keith, who seemed to be about confused as you were.

“Out! Everyone out now!” A yell went through the crowd of people at the party.

You immediately stiffened as you recognized the voice. Snape, of course it was him. You closed your eyes and groaned quietly as people started to shuffle out of the room quickly.

“Oh damn, I kinda feel bad for you now.” Keith chuckled but dropped his drink and rushed off into the crowd. He wobbled a lot, and for a moment you wanted to laugh at the sight, but when you started to walk, you wobbled too, stumbling even as you tried to blink off the feeling of weightlessness.

You did your best to hide yourself, but Snape was standing at the door, yelling, and disciplining each and every student that crossed the doorway. There was no other exit. This was like one of your worst nightmares and you were so drunk, you were pretty sure that you might have been drooling as you slowly stumbled towards him.

He eyed you with something you couldn’t place at the moment, but just as you reached him, his face turned into this disgusted judgmental look that you recognized, and it was pointed directly at you. Immediately, you want to shout at him for looking at you like that. He had no right to stare at you with those mean eyes, you thought. He wasn’t your dad, fuck that.

“Stay here.” He hissed at you through his teeth, and you rolled your eyes at least twice to make sure he saw it.

“Mm, you’re not my fucking father.” You slurred under your breath, sliding your back down against the wall behind him. He didn’t hear you of course, due to the chatter from the other people at the party.

Dozens more students poured out the room, some staring at you sympathetically and others looking at you with horror, as if they could picture what was about to happen with Snape being both your professor and your stepfather.

“Professor Snape, I can assist her to her room.” One of your friends popped up. You smiled wobbly to her and waved.

“No, you insolent child, leave now before I decide to take even more points away from your house.” He snapped and your friend chirped in shock and rushed away without a single word more. You pouted at that and watched everyone else leave. Even the Hufflepuffs left without arguing – which was mostly due to the deadly glare and stance Snape had.

He had turned around and stared at you as you kept your eyes cast to the floor. “Child. Get up.” He spoke up.

He couldn’t even say your name, you thought with a scoff aloud.

“Don’t wanna.” You muttered back. You could feel him staring at you with an even worse gaze, something cold and mean it felt like. Then to your surprise, he crouched down to your level and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Get up.” He said again, voice sounding confusingly strange to you. A mixture of anger and disappointment (what’s new, you bitterly thought), but something else was in it as well, and you couldn’t point it out.

“Didn’t you hear what I told you? Just leave me here.” You spoke back to him, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you as you tried to roll away from his hand on your shoulder. You were feeling so many waves of emotions, especially negative ones.

Why did everyone associate you with this man? Why did he have to be your stepfather?

It was so painfully obvious that he didn’t care about you. Maybe the only thing he did care about was making you feel disgraceful to everyone in school and everyone at home.

You became separated from your family because of him. Your father left and his side of the family barely communicated with you anymore because of who your mother married. And your mother tried her best to include you but how could you possibly want to stand by her side when your horribly mean professor is standing with his hand wrapped around her waist?

He took everyone away from you. Now even with your friends, it was a nightmare come true. He was bringing your worst fears to life with you being forcibly separated from everyone you cared about.

“You have to get up,” He paused, watching you mutely struggle to get away from him. “I’m taking you to your room to rest.” He finished. You stared up at him abruptly.

“That’s funny. Why?” You smiled bitterly and slowly accepted his grip on your arm as you forced yourself up. You knew you couldn’t stay here, you’d have to get to your room.

“You’re drunk. You could get hurt. Must I go on?” He muttered at you as his grip on you tightened as you stumbled out the door.

“Oh yeah, go on, tell me why you hate me and how much of a stain I am on your reputation…” You chuckled darkly.

He paused in his steps, staring at you intensely.

“Do you not understand I’m taking you to your room because I care about you?” His words came out fast and you took a moment to comprehend them before you laughed loudly.

“You are not my father! You will never be my dad! What’s with you acting this way? I know it’s fake. You hate me. You made me alone. I can’t even – breathe with you everywhere. I hate you!” You screamed, throat burning as it felt like blood rushed up and started to choke you.

You ripped yourself away from him and watched as his face crumbled in a way so familiar to you – it made you want to run away when you realized this was how you looked when you would glance into the mirror at yourself whenever he was around and made you become so unlikable to everyone else.

It was despair. Pain, anger, confusion, and you could almost feel the self-loathing coming off him at that second.

“Is this how you truly see me? Of course, I’m not your father. I will never try to replace your father.” He shook his head. His eyes slowly became blank, like he was trying to dissociate from this moment in time. You couldn’t understand how he was so alike you right here and right now. Why was he looking like this?

“You made me feel scared in my own home. I don’t have a place to call home anymore now because of you.” You spat out, tears forming in your eyes.

He slowly wiped his hand down his face and sighed deeply. “Dear, I have tried to give you space. I have tried to include you. I have tried to bend to your will at every point at home. Is this what you really think?” His words had started out so quiet and then rose in volume.

“Why are you saying that stuff? It’s fake.” You tried to call out, but he shook his head at you, looking so miserable.

“You’re drunk. We will speak in the morning. I am taking you home during the break.” He stopped and seemed to have to take a few seconds to breathe and calm himself, but then he continued, “I have cared for you this entire time, but I see that you have trouble believing that. I will show you how much I care about you and this family, along with how you are doing as my student, in a way you will understand. But firstly, please hold onto me, I will take you to your room.”

When you quietly watched his face to see if you could detect any lies, he sighed and looked distressed. You took his arm in your hand and quietly moved along with him to go to your room. Thankfully the halls had cleared at this point, everyone had gone back to their rooms with a few of the other professors ordering them to.

“Careful,” He called out as you got to your room, trying to reach for your bed. You tripped slightly, only to be caught by him and he slowly sat you down on the bed and grabbed one of your blankets and wrapped it around your shoulders.

Your roommates were either pretending to be asleep or were asleep, but you couldn’t find yourself to care about that. “Did you mean it?” You murmured just as he took a step away from your bed.

“Excuse me?” He quietly answered.

“Did you really mean it? That you – you’re trying?” You couldn’t fully say it, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him aloud if he had actually cared about you this entire time. You felt strangely sober now. That weightlessness feeling had gone and now you felt drawn to the floor, stomach dropping into a bottomless pit.

He seemed to understand your question after a moment and nodded. “I have been giving you space, trying to comprehend what you might be feeling… I was once your age too before in case you have forgotten. I hoped you would understand that I was simply giving you what I thought you wanted.”

“I didn’t.” You managed to press out, “I didn’t understand that.”

It was almost a silent apology. But you both needed to apologize to each other, it seemed like, for misinterpreting things for so long and so violently.

He blinked away an emotion you’ve never seen in him before, something like hope and understanding. He took a step back and went to grab you a cup of water, and to give you a little time. You fell back against your bed with a strangled sob wrecking through your body at last, like something lifted and things were being solved finally.

You shook with each cry, trying to silence yourself. Was this really happening? Did he actually care? Had this whole time, you’ve been isolating yourself on a huge misunderstanding?

You wanted to see your mom, talk with her to try to understand it all. You wanted your dad’s side of the family to reach out once more, just to connect with them again. You wanted your family, new and old connections.

“Dear, sit up just a bit.” Snape walked back into the room. His voice rang out very quietly, and you struggled to sit up. He held the cup against your lips as you sipped some cold water, which helped your crying slow slightly.

“Can you stay here? For a little while?” You whispered as a few more tears ran down your face. He wiped them away with a tissue he grabbed from the other room.

“Yes, till you fall asleep. Come to my office when you awaken, you’ll be excused from your classes tomorrow, for this… situation.” He worded out, and you sniffled and nodded.

You had slowly stopped crying after what felt like ages, feeling a low headache start to form. You sniffled once more, “I didn’t mean to drink that much.” You felt like you had to say before you fell asleep.

In the darkness, you could very vaguely see a quirk of his lip curl upwards, “That’s what they all say. Again, I was your age too once.”

With that, you managed to drift to sleep, feeling emotionally wrecked and almost unavailable, but you felt clearer. Much like a heaviness was lifted from your shoulders and the stress held in your chest removed like stones being cleared away. Things will get better now, in the morning. You two will figure it out and things will be better than they were.

It seemed that he was not your father, but much more like a father figure.

#severus snape x reader #snape x reader #platonic reader #harry potter fanfiction #professor snape x reader

[your-nanas-house]

LOVE UR PAGE SMMM😭

if you feel like/have time would you be down to write something abt Jerome and a psychiatrist reader?

if you don't like the idea or anything just ignore this :))

AWWWW THANK YOU! for the compliments and the request. I really miss our Romie 🥺 he isn't as famous as he used to be lately. Our poor baby 😭 Sorry if it took me so long, dear.

Just a kiss for Christmas

◇ Pairing: Jerome Valeska X psychiatrist!Reader

◇ Warnings: fluff, Jerome Valeska..we know how our lovely crazy ginger is, kiss, unexpected touch, flirting.

◇ Summary: Jerome is locked in Arkham but he still wants a Christmas gift.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Credits to the owners of the pictures.

Finally after the last patrol of the guards, two stopped in front of Jerome's cell who was waiting impatiently in front of his door, his hazel eyes carefully observing whoever passed in the corridor.

He was adorable, despite being a known and feared serial killer, with a childish but sadistic personality.

He really looked eager and excited that day, maybe for the upcoming festivity or the session he was about to have with his psychiatrist— a she psychiatrist, like Jerome kept pointing out at every patience there.

Miss Y/l/n, a young psychiatrist that was pretty good at her job, treating everyone with respect and professionalism even in a madhouse like that. 

In all his staying, the ginger never felt the want or need to see a doc there but everything was different with his Y/n. He was kind of smitten, to not say obsessed.

That's why he was so excited to go on Christmas Eve for a session with her, thus spending an hour alone in the room talking about himself while sneakily trying to hit on her, even though it never worked. But a man had his needs, hadn't he?

His pace was fast as he walked, carrying with him his diary, holding it tightly in his strong big hands till they  finally arrived at their destination.

The door slowly opened, allowing him to step in and sit innocently at the table, handcuffs still around his wrists and ankles— he looked like an innocent child in that moment, just waiting with a puppy face that broke as soon as Y/n moved closer to the table 

“Why are you acting like that, Jerome?” she asked, not managing to hold back her own smile while she sat down in front of him

“Nothing, doll…I mean Doc” he replied smoothly, a smirk slowly creeping on his scared face.

His gloved hands kept resting on the table, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved his fingers tapping the surface there.

.

After the session, which went pretty good, almost too good…Y/n took a moment to look at him for a couple of seconds, just staying in silence— just waiting for something to happen, to understand the reason for Jerome's weird behavior.

“So?” The beautiful psychiatrist asked, leaning closer to him, allowing her arms to rest on the table that way— her eyes still scanning his freckled face

“So what, Doc?” Jerome replied smugly, moving carefully his hands to search something in his pockets while she was still studying him

“What's on your mind, huh? Searching for another reward since you were such a good boy?” She asked in a soft but teasing voice.

Well, it was actually like that.

Jerome pulled quickly out what looked like a broken mistletoe and moved it between them as best he could, letting her hold it above their heads for him

“Been a good boy all week, doll. Lil'ol’ me isn't on ya naughty list this year” he murmured, smiling slowly with his scared lips, his smile big and almost scary for someone who wasn't used to it.

He received no response for a couple of minutes, his psychiatrist just kept watching him with a serious expression before finally cracking and nod

“You've been pretty good, yes…guess you really earned this Christmas gift, huh?” She murmured, mostly to herself before she leaned closer.

Jerome did the same as soon as she saw her lean in, he was still tied but he managed to connect their lips in a french kiss, slipping his tongue as best he could in her mouth to taste her— his handcuffed hands cupping her clothed breasts when she was focused on returning the forceful kiss.

“Jerome! Should have expected it…still a naughty man with a puppy tricky face” she joked softly, not really made at his childish antics.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny, @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter

#gotham #gotham tv #gotham x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x you #jerome valeska x reader #jerome x reader #jerome imagine #jerome valeska imagines #gotham jerome #jerome valeska imagine #cameron monaghan

[ficswjackson]

severus and autistic!partner hc’s.

a/n : hi this is the first personal thing that i am publishing & honestly i really am so very happy with it. i am a afab young adult late diagnosed autistic, but i have tried to keep it gender neutral so more people can relate to it. this is a very important topic for me, and i love writing about autistic people. i get it that severus is not everyone’s cup of tea, but please do not hate on this - just ignore it if you don’t want to interact.

word count - 1.7k ( sorry for the length, i just started writing and then didn’t stop )

initially telling severus & discusssions around that.

- as a young adult, getting the diagnosis both helped but also lead to some confusing questions and left you feeling pretty alone in a neurotypical society.

- however when you told severus, he did not seem suprised. he seemed to be confused, but not suprised. he noticed that you expressed some traits, which typically leaned towards autism.

- he recently paid more significant attention to your habits & the way you act in certain situations, such as the plushie you carry around & the way you go silent in busy situations.

- when he found out, he repeatedly reassured you that ‘nothing had changed’ either with his opinion of you or the way he feels about you.

- you would know that it had changed, but it had changed for the better rather than the worse.

- it was now important that you were able to set the appropriate boundaries that you needed too in order to make your autism more manageable for you.

severus reading up about autism & how to help

- with severus being the intellect that he is, he would like to read up about young adult autism & how would be the best way to help with you and your autism.

- for a few weeks afterwards, you would find help books all around the house, open to random pages. especially by your bedside table & on his work desk as well.

- severus would both read and explore different ideas in how to help most with your autism. on his computer, you would often find tabs open where he would talk to other people’s partners about their partners autism & how they handle it / help with it.

- when you initially found the books, severus would explain that ‘he wanted to help you the best that he could’ and make things as easier as he could for you.

- your response to that would be too go up to him and hug him, seeking the comfort that you never found as a child. he would instantly wrap his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. he would rest his head on top of yours, due to the height difference between you too.

- over the next few weeks, while he read up about autism - you would talk to you more about how he felt lonely growing up & that you did not have friends or family.

- he talked about his lack of belonging in society & the way he felt alienated. ‘i never felt like I belonged, until I met you. your presence just feels like home to me’. you feel the exact same way, being safe in his arms.

severus & his indentity.

- both in and out of hogwarts, severus was known to be impaitent and cold hearted. but with you from the start, he was patient & he listened to anything you had to say whether he viewed it as important or not.

- he was very careful around you, in order to make you feel safe in all situations. he would never force you to speak or do anything.

- if you went non verbal he would find other means to communicate with you, such as through written words or simply just through actions. he also briefly looked into learning sign language in order to help you communicate when you go into verbal shutdown but the conversation hadnt happened yet, so he held off and just learnt it quietly in the background.

- he became quite good at noticing what you needed : whether that be hugs or some space alone. if you needed hugs, he would hold you tightly and would do breathing with you, often letting you just sit with him letting you be comforted by his heartbeat.

- however if he sensed you needed space, he would move to the other-side of the room & do something independently, such as reading. he would stay in the same room if he could just to make sure you stay safe. he would keep you company in simple ways, but it would be very effective.

stimming & meltdowns.

- the first time severus sees you stimming, is through happiness. he finds happiness in himself watching your joy, in such a untainted manner. he then vows to make sure that you are happy in every situation that you can be.

- when severus see’s you having a meltdown, it hurts his heart so very much. he can physically feel the pain, radiating in his chest watching you and the way that you react.

- he tries to comfort you the best that he can, while sticking to the boundaries, which you have put in place. most of the time during these meltdowns, he will give you the space that you need.

- he has found that when you are in this state, it sometimes calms you down when he reads to you. he can read to you for hours, or as long as you need the help for. he will try to calm you down in whatever manner he can.

infodumping with severus

- one of severus’s favourite things to hear is when you infodump. he will listen to you info dump about anything, even if he has no interest in the subject.

- when you talk about anything, his chest will have a warm feeling spread throughout it & he will often be left with a smile on his face. he listens and remembers everything that you say, as it makes him so very happy when you feel comfortable enough with him.

- ‘oh i am sorry, am i rambling again? you must tell me to stop otherwise you know that I will not… ‘ severus will stop your apology, by kissing your forehead and threading his fingers between yours. ‘I love it when you talk to me, please do not stop’.

- you also love to listen to severus talk about his interests, and you adore seeing him be passionate about the subject that he is most interested in.

- severus could talk for hours about potions & the outdoors, he has a lot of knowledge and hearing anything he has to say, just makes you smile.

- he also loves it when you come out potion hunting with him, as it allows him to know that you are safe. he will often suprise you with events at night, such as watching the animals in the forbidden forest & he will cast spells to make you calm & make the situation much easier for you when dealing with your autism.

trusting severus

- due to your trust in severus, you opened up about your childhood & teen experiences ; about how you spent a lot more time alone, the way you were bullied by other students, the way you had a bad relationship with most people in your life. you felt that any friendship you made, would not last leading you to be alone a lot of the time.

- you also opened up about your struggle with your identity, turmoil of emotions & dealing with the change in society regarding emotions and trying to fit in with other people your own age.

- growing up as a undiagnosed autistic, was very alienating. ‘I masked for many years, i masked so hard i actually lost who I am’

- severus resonated with most of those things as well, as he often spend a lot of time alone growing up, he didn’t really interact with many people and he also preferred to read rather than do anything too social. he had no real friends, either.

- ‘you never have to mask with me, i promise. no matter what you have to say, i will listen to you’

worries with severus & relationships

- ‘am I too much?’ you regularly have this fear that you are too much. you have been told by multiple people, your parents, your friends and past ‘relationships’ that everything you do is too much.

- you spent your whole life being half the person that you are in order to fit in with what the people want to see, not who you truly are. ‘i apologise if I am, please feel free to tell me if I am…’

- upon hearing this, Severus assures you that ‘you sometimes are a little much’ but that ‘i like that you are too much, you are my too much’. he constantly tries to reassure you that you are not too much for him, he finds pleasure in listening to you talk and engage in subjects that you find interesting.

putting his research into action

- after reading the books, severus found that it was important to implement steady breathing techniques in order to calm your anxieties around autism. ‘i’m so proud of you for calming down a little bit already’.

- he would make sure that you stayed calm in certain situations and it would help you to focus on something other than feelings of sadness.

- severus would sit and wait with me, until my breathing calmed down. he would hold your hand against his chest, focusing on something other than how you feel. ‘we can do this, together’

- however, there are moments where severus will also use deep compression in order to calm me down, before a meltdown comes on. ‘i know you need me, your safe’

- he once again lets you hear and feel his heartbeat in order to ground yourself. if he notices that you are not in the right mental state to be held, he will often just grip your hands & holds the pressure points on your wrists to calm you down. ‘i will keep you safe for as long as you need me’

autistic safe space.

- he builds you a relaxing safe space, in order to fully decompress from anxieties and be able to truly be yourself. it includes a lot of blankets & plushies in order to make you feel safe. ‘something that’s cozy and enclosed and safe for you’

- he builds you a safe space in your home, kind of like a fort with lots of blankets and a safe space to spend time on your own. severus occasionally finds himself being able to curl up in your fort with you just to keep you company if your having a bad night or something. ‘maybe we can build a safe space like that in our bedroom’

- when you have a meltdown at work, he also does the same to you there. he provides you with a safe space, normally under a desk in his office in order to decompress.

- he makes sure it’s as quiet as you need it to be, to help. he always tries to help you in the best way that he can & he finds comfort in being able to provide comfort for you.

meltdown preparation

- between you and severus, you can normally tell when a meltdown is coming on & he will do anything that he can in order to calm you down before it gets too bad.

- he will offer to help you, either by cooking or providing items that give you sensory help in order to ground yourself. ‘i just want you to be safe and comfortable’

- he will always try to take pressure of you, to make life easier for you. wether that be something as simple as giving you a plushie or cooking a meal for you. he makes your life so much more easier & your so grateful for him.

#severus x autistic!partner #severus snape autism #pro snape #autism snape #snape fandom #snape community #snape content #pro severus #severus snape x autistic reader #autism characters #actually autistic #autistic headcanon #snape #snape love #professor snape #i love severus

[taevbears]

Magic Shop - 11

You find out what Seokjin calls you behind your back.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Seokjin focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 12.0k ⤑ warnings: smut (penetrative), seokjin gets a little jealous and touchy (risky touching?), verbal sexual harassment, pet names, minor character death, public torture (whipping, implied starvation, not y/n or the boys), description of bodily harm, oppression of mages, implied shady business dealings, a bit of piracy, probable inaccuracies with 92 liners, mentions of violence, y/n and seokjin are so ride or die for each other lmao. ⤑ note: this is the 2nd half of jin's story! if you haven't read the ch 10 yet or need a refresher, please do so before reading this chapter! but man, the amount of times i had to re-write some scenes bc i was afraid it was getting too complicated. even though it's a long one, i hope you guys enjoy! i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything :)

Chapters: Series ML | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

In the time that Seokjin is away, there hasn’t been a single day where he isn’t thinking about you.

In the throes of battle, surrounded by enemies. Swords viciously clash against each other and arrows of fire shoot across the sky. An anguished cry from a fallen opponent pierces the air. And Seokjin, unceremoniously running his sword through an incoming enemy, wonders if you’re having a good day.

During a third round of drinks in a noisy pub. Drunk comrades are crooning classic love songs, their words slurring together as they belt out notes off-key. One of them is in their feelings and is crying under the table. Glass shatters from the corner of the bar and a brawl is let loose. As a chair flies over his head, Seokjin worries if you’re eating well and sleeping okay.

Late at night, in their makeshift camp that’s located in the middle of nowhere. The cackles of a small bonfire, the snores of his team, and the chirps of crickets fill the quiet night. Above him, the stars and moon are beautiful, and Seokjin gazes up at them forlornly as a wild bear approaches the camp. He ignores the menacing roar and the panicked screams as he realizes how much he misses you.

It feels like he’s been away from you longer than he really has. With every begrudging step, he and the Freelancers travel on foot to their destination. The location of their target is far, and the threats of wild animals, bandits, and other ailments make the roads dangerous.

But nothing – not even the merciless wrath of the Devoted gods – could withstand the constant bickering between the two leaders of the Freelancers.

Day in and day out, it feels like the two brothers – Adnan and Tariq – can’t settle on anything without a disagreement. Diplomatic and a pacifist, Adnan tries to help anyone he comes across who are in need. Tariq scolds him for giving away needed supplies and for wasting their time. But while Adnan is checking local inns and encouraging the guild to turn in for the night, Tariq and his followers unwind at pubs and bars until the early hours of the morning. They’ve been nothing but hostile toward each other. Not only are they getting on each other’s nerves, but it’s affecting everyone else as well.

“Have they always been like that?” Seokjin asks, keeping his voice low as he eyes the tent the brothers are in. Everyone is pretending they can’t hear them yelling at each other again.

Byulyi nods her head solemnly. “It’s been getting worse. Ever since their father got sick, he’s been giving Adnan the responsibility to lead the guild. But Tariq has his own ideas and wants to run things very differently.”

Just then, Tariq storms out of Adnan’s tent. A silence follows as the guild gauges his angered expression. And the tension continues to linger even after Tariq enters his own tent without a word.

Their mission comes directly from a wealthy nobleman.

There’s a looming threat of something in the nearby woods. Every night, the villagers hear a horrid groan. It spooks the dogs and the livestock. To make matters worse, those who’ve dared to investigate the strange sound have yet to return. No one knows if it’s a beast, a cult, or witchcraft. Whatever it is, it seems to be getting closer to the town.

The mission is considered complete if they are able to successfully investigate the mysterious sound and get rid of the threat.

“This feels spooky,” Junghwan whispers, inching closer to Seokjin. He nods his head, eyes flickering wearily at the treetops. A thick fog has settled around them, obscuring the path beyond what their torches can illuminate. Aside from their footsteps and the cackles of their burning flames, everything is so quiet.

Adnan and Tariq are in the lead, but a fork in the road has the group split. Some follow the leader down one path while the rest follow his brother. Seokjin pauses as he looks down the crossroads, not sure which way to take.

What would you do in this situation?

It’s funny how, even now, Seokjin is still thinking about you.

His friends stop as well. Nervously, Heeyeon asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Shh. Did you hear that?” Jaehwan whispers. Everyone falls quiet, barely breathing.

It’s then, they catch it. The sound of rustling.

Sunwoo is the first to jump into action. He draws his weapon, stepping closer to the source of the sound. Seokjin and Byulyi flank to his side, ready to assist, followed by Junghwan, Jaehwan, and Heeyeon. Seokjin unsheathes his sword as Sunwoo charges forward.

Caught in a small clearing is a group of three. One man and two women. Humans, at least at first glance. Seokjin would’ve thought they’re from another guild had he not seen the small, glowing light from the tips of their wands.

Mages.

The two groups point their weapons at each other, but no one makes the first strike. Sunwoo’s brows are furrowed as he demands, “Who are you?”

“We’re just trying to get away from it,” the man explains, urgency in his voice. “Let us pass and we won’t harm you.”

Byulyi frowns. “Get away from what?”

In the distance, Seokjin sees it.

Through the thick fog, a tall figure emerges. Its height reaches the tall tree tops, and its body is entirely made of roots and wood. It’s as if an old, rotting tree has come to life, but its shape has morphed into something humanoid. In its wooden face, glowing, yellow eyes stare back at them.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” a woman pleads, her lip quivering with fear. She looks like she’s been through hell. “Our friend got trapped in the Veil. We were trying to perform a ritual for her, but she didn’t wake up. We were just trying to summon her back, but something else came instead.”

The others look confused, but Seokjin knows exactly what’s going on. He’s seen this once before, when something Wicked possesses a mage’s body.

“Do you feel her?” Seokjin quickly asks the group. “Do you still feel your friend’s energy in that thing?”

“Barely,” she answers. The two beside her nod their heads.

“Then we’re not too late,” Seokjin sighs as he sheaths his sword. His friends look even more confused as he turns to them and explains, “That creature is a person. Human, like all of us.”

Their eyes dart to the mages, who stare at him with a stunned silence. Byulyi’s frown deepens. “But—”

“Human. We’re human. They’re human. That’s human,” Seokjin emphasizes, pointing at each of them, including the mages and the beast. He turns his attention to the mages again. “You guys are her friends, right? You have to keep talking to her, then. You have to help her remember who she is so she can snap out of it.”

A flicker of hope shines in one of the woman’s eyes. The other two aren’t quite as convinced. The man is the one who answers. “Don’t you think we’ve tried that?”

“If you care about your friend, you’ll try again.” Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time to persuade them. He gestures toward the creature, telling his teammates that they can weaken her a little and stop her from doing any more damage, but they can’t kill her.

As they reach the creature, she’s even bigger in person, more intimidating. Even the mages are trembling a little as they crane their necks up to see her. The creature sees the group approaching her, and when she moves, a terrible, haunting groan escapes from her. To Seokjin, it almost sounds like a cry for help.

Taking his advice, the mages call out to their friend, shouting her name, trying to comfort her, assuring that they can still feel her energy. And much to everyone’s surprise, it’s working. The creature leans down, body aching and cracking as she tries to level with her friends.

“S-Scared…”

That’s the only word she utters before a shriek of pain pierces in the air. 

Adnan and Tariq have followed the sound of the groaning and see their comrades in the face of a terrifying creature. They unleash their attacks, raining fire upon her, even as Seokjin and the others scream at the brothers to stop.

“Good work, son,” Adnan tells him, clasping the former warden’s shoulder proudly. Seokjin feels the sting of frustration in his eyes. “We’ll take it from here.”

The creature in the woods is slain and the Wicked mages that summoned it have been arrested. Thanks to the Freelancers of New Haven, the village is at peace.

The nobleman pays the group handsomely for their efforts. The pouch of coins feels heavy in Seokjin’s hands. It’s enough for him to take a break, visit his hometown with you and the others, and still have more to spare toward the shop.

Seokjin doesn’t feel right when he’s handed his share by the grateful nobleman.

Although the mission is considered a success, Seokjin can’t help but think about the mages and the monster in the woods, about Adriel from Blackstone Castle and his similar fate. He can’t help but envision you, Hoseok, or Namjoon as the creature instead and witnessing your ends before he could stop it.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Seokjin says to the mages, speaking quietly as the others around him celebrate their victory. The mages are held together, wrists bound with nullifying ties that prevent them from using their magic.

Their fates are undetermined. But with the way things are in this world, injustice will be their demise.

He doesn’t expect the mages to forgive him. He doesn’t even expect them to accept his apology. Yet, one of the female mages looks at him with kind eyes.

“How did you know… about her? That there’s a way for mages to regain their humanity after they turn Wicked?”

Seokjin isn’t sure how to answer. He’s seen the head enchanter of Blackstone call out to his apprentice. He’s seen Adriel come back to his senses when his friend, Jackson, broke through to him. And although he didn’t completely transform, Taehyung is living proof that it’s possible to become human again.

“I’ve come to realize you mages aren’t all that bad,” he decides. It’s a long story to explain otherwise.

“Because you know one?”

Seokjin stares at her with surprise. “I-I don’t—”

“It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me,” she says with a knowing smile. She glances at the charmed bracelet around his wrist. The one that Hoseok and Taehyung made for him before he left on his mission. The one that you had enchanted to keep him safe while he’s gone. “Whoever you know must care about you a lot. Those are some strong protection spells.”

“Yeah…” Seokjin trails off as he looks down at it. Everyone at the shop made sure he was well-protected and taken care of before he left. It makes him miss you all more.

And it makes him feel even more guilty about how things transpired.

The mission is completed and Seokjin has been paid, but he knows that deep down, he’s failed.

“Have you gone mad?” Adnan remarks as he stares at his younger brother in disbelief.

“Either this, or they be sent to the gallows,” Tariq reasons, and before his brother could reply, he adds, “It will be a waste of their talent if they’re just hung to death or sent to a fortress to rot.”

Another argument is brewing between the two brothers, but this one has everyone split. Before the guild could leave the village to return home, Tariq proposes to bring the captured mages with them. To atone for their sins, he suggests that they work for the guild instead.

“No way. The Devoted leaders will have our heads if we allow such a thing,” Adnan reminds him as a murmur of agreement comes from the crowd. Working with a mage is bound to be trouble. It goes against the teachings of the Devoted.

Tariq rolls his eyes. “The Devoted leaders can kiss my ass. Those pompous prudes have their heads so far up their own asses, they—”

“Brother!” Adnan snaps, interrupting him. “We are not taking the mages with us! What if one of them turns into another one of those creatures? Or something even worse? We’ll be endangering the town. We’ll be tarnishing the reputation our family has built for the Freelancers.”

“Fine. Then I quit the Freelancers.”

With the tension rising between the two brothers, it shouldn’t have been surprising. Yet, Seokjin is still stunned to see the guild fall apart before his eyes as they speak.

“Brother, where are your senses?” Adnan asks, exasperated. It seems like this isn’t the first time his brother has threatened to leave the guild. But it’s the first time Tariq seems to mean it.

“You do things your way, and I’ll do things my way,” he concludes as he turns to the quiet guild. “I’m making a new guild – The New Order. Anyone who has what it takes to join my side is more than welcomed to.”

Those in favor of Tariq, who’s morals seem to align with his questionable practices, immediately get up to follow him. Some are a bit more hesitant, standing with Tariq out of fear that he’ll attack the remaining Freelancers than anything else.

Unexpectedly, however, Seokjin begins to stand up as well.

His friends look at him with shock. Jaehwan asks, “What are you doing?”

Truthfully, Seokjin doesn’t know. Before New Haven, he was part of an order that is similar to what Adnan envisions for the Freelancers: knights of the Devoted protecting the town from magic and all things evil. Clearly, that didn’t work out for him. Seokjin can’t be in a guild that hunts mages for profit.

Seokjin looks at his friends with a half-hearted smile. “Hopefully, the right thing.”

Somehow, the journey going back home feels longer than having to leave. Without Adnan keeping things in order, Tariq and his men are like a crew of pillaging pirates. They spend their new earnings sleeping with women, drinking at pubs, intimidating the villagers with violence, and finding ways to make quick coin through threats and theft.

Seokjin doesn’t want any part of it.

Someone pushes him a pint of cold ale. Tariq grins at him from across the table. “It’s on me, kid. Live a little.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters, taking a sip. It gives him something to do than just sitting there, ignoring the sultry women around him who are batting their eyelashes and giggling to get his attention. It’s times like this where he really wishes you were with him instead.

Tariq sees the way Seokjin is visibly uncomfortable with the women around him. “You have a wife or something?”

“Yes,” Seokjin answers. Technically, you’re not married to him. But you’re still his.

“You heard the man. Go find someone else,” he orders the women. They sigh in defeat, but leave him alone.

“Thanks,” Seokjin tells him, more sincerely.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with my brother,” Tariq continues, trying to make small talk. “You seem the type to follow him. Well-mannered, honest, a good person. Loyal to your wife, too. People like that love to kiss the ground he walks on.”

“I have my reasons,” Seokjin says vaguely. 

“We’ll have plenty more missions like this one in our future,” Tariq assures him. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes Seokjin mildly uncomfortable. “That thing in the woods was a mage too, right? Imagine having a monster like that on your side of the battlefield. We’d be unstoppable.”

Seokjin frowns. “Sir, what exactly are you going to do with the mages?”

Tariq doesn’t answer him. He just laughs heartily and tells him, “Just drink up, kid. You deserve it.”

Before he left, Seokjin made you a promise. That as soon as his mission is over, he’ll run straight home to you.

When he was still in town, he’d usually return to the shop by sunset. Yellows, oranges, and pinks would color the sky in a beautiful twilight, basking the town with a golden glow as he makes his way back to you. Every afternoon, you’d be the first to welcome him back, stepping out of the shop to meet him outside. All the anxiousness and worry melt away the moment your eyes lock with his and you see him running toward you.

Sometimes, he’d throw his pack aside and pull you into a tight hug. Sometimes, you’d trip over your feet to reach him first. Despite how hard the day is, no matter how tired and sweaty he is, or how busy you’ve been, nothing else matters as you both end up in each other’s arms.

You have no idea when Seokjin is coming back this time.

But every afternoon, you still come out of the shop to welcome him home.

Most of the time, one of the other boys keeps you company while you’re waiting. Other times, you keep yourself busy by sweeping the steps, watering the flowers, or hanging up laundry to air-dry. But lately, you’ve just been sitting on the steps of the shop and watching the sunset, wishing that Seokjin was there to share this moment with you.

“Do you think he’ll come back today?” Jungkook asks, sitting next to you on the steps. Even though there’s plenty of space around you, he’s huddled close to your side.

You smile a bit and lean on his shoulder. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

Jungkook hums, shifting around and pulling you closer to him so that you’re both comfortable. Out of all the boys, it’s Jungkook that comes out and waits with you the most. He helps you with the chores, he sings and shares a drink with you, he fits you between his legs and in his arms as the sun disappears and the air gets colder. You know part of it is because he’s adamant about spending more time with you, but you also know it’s because he misses Seokjin too.

All of you do.

Everyone has felt his absence since Seokjin has been away. It’s hard to walk past his room in the hallway and know that it’s empty. Or to eat dinner together and see the vacant spot at the table where he sits. You miss his silliness, his dramatic antics, the sound of his laughter, the sweetness of his smile seconds before he does something completely unhinged.

The sun dips lower and lower, and night begins to color the skies in dark blues and purples. More of the boys come out for a bit, and Jimin crosses over to say hello. The conversations between you and the boys drift from one topic to another, until Hoseok invites Jimin to eat dinner at the shop. The moon and stars appear in the sky, and one by one, the boys begin to head back inside.

Until it’s just you and Jungkook again.

“Come on, you two. It’s getting cold,” Namjoon says, opening the door to the shop. The light and warmth from inside feel welcoming compared to the chilly air around you.

“Maybe he’ll be home tomorrow?” Jungkook suggests, helping you to your feet.

“Maybe,” you reply, a bit sullen. You try not to look too disappointed as Jungkook wraps his arm around you and starts to lead you inside.

Just as you’re about to cross the threshold, you hear the sound of footsteps running toward you guys. The three of you look at the source of the sound and your eyes widen as you feel Jungkook’s arm suddenly slip off you. He sounds a bit choked up as he utters, “Jin-hyung?”

Hoseok passes by at that moment, most-likely to check on you and Jungkook as well. His eyes widen at what he hears. “Jin’s here? He’s home?”

Inside, there’s a commotion of chaos as the others stop what they’re doing and rush to the door. And sure enough, after some time apart, Seokjin is finally standing before you. The cold air makes his breath visible and his face is a bit flushed from running. 

He looks exhausted and travel-worn, but he’s as handsome as ever. “I’m ba–”

You don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence as you throw yourself at him, so happy and relieved that you’re nearly in tears. The others follow after you, greeting him with long hugs and affectionate squeezes. Seokjin keeps you close to him, one arm around you as he uses his free hand to return their greetings. As the excitement starts to spill back inside, Seokjin finally turns his attention back to you.

“I missed you,” you tell him, gently caressing his handsome face.

“Not as much as I missed you,” he replies, and he kisses you like he’s been waiting forever to have you in his arms again.

Tonight, the shop is the liveliest it’s been in a while.

Hoseok serves his best brews, and it isn’t long until the table is surrounded by flushed, giddy faces. The food Yoongi has made is extra delicious, and he smiles shyly but proudly when he receives compliments for his work. There’s loud chatter and laughter, and having the eight of you all together again fills you with a warm feeling that can’t be anything else but love.

Tonight, Namjoon keeps the shop closed. The curtains are drawn, the doors are locked, and a sign on the window reads that it isn’t open. Regulars frown and try to peer inside, wondering what’s happened. And perhaps, through the disguising glamor of a quiet and empty building, they’d see all of you have moved to the parlor.

“Tell us about your mission, hyung,” Jungkook asks, eyes wide with excitement.

“I’d rather talk about what you guys have been up to,” Seokjin replies, shaking his head slightly. “I’m sure you guys will hear more about it in the morning anyway.”

“That bad, huh?” Jimin asks with an arched eyebrow.

Seokjin grimaces as he takes a swig of his drink. The heat of the alcohol burns his throat as he swallows. “To put it lightly, I think the Freelancers are done.”

You all look at him in shock. “Really? What happened?”

“Decisions were made, and the guild split up,” Seokjin vaguely explains, though it only makes you all even more curious. “The good news is that I’m technically on a vacation now. I think I know how I want to spend it, too.”

Tonight, Seokjin unpacks from his long mission and begins to sort through the things he wants to take back to his hometown. As he tries to remember the things his parents and brother like, he hears a knock on the door.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s you.

“It’s nice to pass by and see that you’re here,” you tell him quietly as you step inside. The room is as pretty as he is, iridescently white walls and floorings that match the soft pastel furniture. Tables made of glass and light fixtures made of crystal. The room hasn’t changed since he’s been away, but you see small souvenirs of his travels on a shelf. Subtle things like the alpaca doll Namjoon snuck into his pack, a super tuna charm made of wood, toadstool mushrooms in a jar. “I’m sorry about the Freelancers. I know the guild was really important to you.”

“I’ll survive,” he says, coming to wrap his arms around you. He places a kiss on the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he holds you close. “I thought about you all the time.”

“Yeah? In what way?” you ask cheekily, and Seokjin laughs as you turn to face him.

Tonight, Seokjin shows you exactly, making up for lost time. You shudder as his soft, plush lips worships your body, how his large hands feel against your heated skin. Your soft moans and sighs only encourage him as you guide his hand down between your legs, whispering against his lips for him to touch you. Moonlight bathes upon your skin as he hovers over you, watching your reaction as his fingers slip inside you. There’s something addicting to the way pleasure is shown on your face, how warm and wet you are just with his fingers pumping in and out of you. How incredibly good you feel when he replaces his fingers with his cock. 

He feels your nails scratching his back as his steady pace quickens, his thrusts become a bit harsher, and he adjusts your legs over his shoulders so he could go deeper. Your little mewls and whimpers become progressively louder as you arch your back and clench around him. And Seokjin moans loudly when he nearly climaxes when you do,

You feel him pull out of you, and his fingers easily slide into you again. You twitch a little and whine out his name, a bit sensitive. But Seokjin smiles warmly and kisses you. “One more, beautiful. Can you do that for me?”

Tomorrow, all hell will break loose once word goes out about the Freelancers. But tonight, Seokjin puts that behind him. Tonight, he puts his attention all on you.

Word about the demise of the Freelancers spreads around town like a wildfire.

Two brothers, who once stood together in the face of danger, are now enemies in a competitive race to gain more influence and success to be the bigger, better guild. Many are loyal to the mission of the reformed Freelancers, and all the hard work Adnan has done to keep his family’s legacy. But there are just as many people who are equally willing to throw away their values and morals to join Tariq’s side, the admired and well-respected war hero of New Haven.

And Seokjin, like many others in the guild, is caught between the crossfires.

“Stay inside today,” Seokjin tells you and the others after explaining the details of his mission. Things he couldn’t say in front of Jimin without exposing any of them, He sees the expression on each of your faces when he described the creature, the mages in the woods, and how Tariq wants to bring them into his guild. He sees the sadness, anger, and weariness in each of you, and how the same thought crosses all your minds: that what had happened to those mages could’ve easily happened to you.

“Especially you, Taehyung,” Hoseok adds seriously, meeting his gaze. 

No one knows how the town will react to the news, but the raven familiar has already dealt with angry mobs and burning stakes a lifetime ago. He shouldn’t have to witness history repeating itself with another mage.

“I’ll be fine,” he replies, but holds you a little tighter to him, afraid to let you go. Seokjin sees your subtle nod when Namjoon mouths for you to stay with Taehyung.

A heavy weight fills Seokjin’s heart as he imagines the awful things that would be said about the captured mages. And how those words, in turn, would hurt any of you.

“We’ll be careful, Jin. Don’t worry about us,” Hoseok assures him with a tiny shrug. “It’s nothing we haven’t heard before. The wardens at Blackstone used to say a lot worse.”

“The wardens used to do a lot worse,” you add on quietly, looking at Seokjin. He visibly stiffens as he remembers those men harassing you at the castle, of the reasons Adriel became Wicked in the first place. It makes him worry that those captured mages could be going through something equally worse by the hands of Tariq and his men.

“What’s going to happen to those mages?” Yoongi asks with a frown.

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

As much as he wants to take you all away to his hometown where it’s safe and away from this mess, he can’t, without good conscience, just skip town when people are in trouble. When he is the only one who understands their situation better than anyone.

“I love you. Be safe,” you tell him before he goes, caressing his face. He kisses you deeply and promises that he’ll come back to you.

Seokjin isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he heads out, but he knows it’s going to be a mess. Jimin catches his eye from across the street. His face is unreadable as he informs him, “There’s something going on at the town square.”

“Yeah, I told them to lay low and keep the shop closed,” Seokjin briskly explains as he makes his way to the square. Jimin follows after him, only a couple steps behind. “Things are going to be pretty rowdy today.”

“Is it true what Tariq has done? He brought mages into New Haven?”

Seokjin stops so abruptly that Jimin runs into him. He turns to face the florist, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Is that a problem?”

For a very brief second, Jimin looks conflicted. But he says, “No. It isn’t.”

Two mortals stare at each other, once on the same ground when Seokjin was still a warden, and now, assumingly, on opposite sides. Raised Devoted, Seokjin has been warned all his life about the evils of magic and mages, but it isn’t until he met you that his heart has changed. That magic could be beautiful and mages can be kind. But Jimin doesn’t know your secrets or the shop’s affinity with the unnatural. If he did, would he still oppose you all? Or would he stand together with Seokjin again?

“Seokjin? You’re here?”

Both of them turn and, to his surprise, Jaehwan is there. Seokjin hasn’t seen his friends since the guild had split up with the others choosing to follow Adnan. He offers a small smile, but it quickly fades when he sees the concerned look on Jaehwan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“You better come to the town square. It’s getting bad.”

The last time the town square was this crowded, there was a fair for the guilds to bring in new recruits. People far and wide came to New Haven with the promise of new adventures, meeting new comrades, honing their skills, and opportunities for wealth. The eagerness and excitement from that day is still fresh in Seokjin’s mind.

Riots fill the streets. Opposing sides are brawling against each other and damaging property. Some are trying to contain the crowd, but their demands fall on deaf ears as arguments continue to escalate. A mob of people form around the stage where Tariq and the mages are. Vile things are shouted to their faces. Garbage and food are thrown at them. Even from his distance, Seokjin can see the mages are still cuffed with bonds that suppress their magic, terrified and defenseless.

“What’s happened here?” Seokjin asks when he, Jimin, and Jaehwan join the rest of Team Seokjin. They looked relieved to see him, happy that the team is reunited again, though they clearly wish it was under better circumstances.

“Tariq is holding a demonstration,” Byulyi informs stiffly.

Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow together. “A what?”

“Fear not, friends. The New Order – our new guild – will have everything under control,” Tariq assures the crowd, as if the hatred isn’t directed at them. “Soon, we won’t have to look at these mages as enemies, but as allies. I’ve seen with my own eyes what they can become once they unlock their full potential. Together, with the mages, The New Order will be an unstoppable force.”

“He’s truly gone mad,” Jaehwan murmurs with a frown. Even Jimin stiffens slightly at what Tariq is implying.

The younger brother suddenly grabs the male mage and drags him away from the others. He seems to be commanding him to do something, and the male shakes his head and trembles. At his refusal, Tariq extends his hand toward one of his lackeys, who gives him a cat o’ nine tails whip.

The first strike has the entire crowd silenced. Heeyeon gasps and covers her mouth, eyes wide. Junghwan’s jaw falls open. Byulyi and Sunwoo avert their gaze immediately once they realize what’s happening. The others are stunned in a mix of shock and horror. 

The second strike, Seokjin doesn’t even think. He doesn’t realize he’s making his way toward the crowd to stop them until he feels his friends pull him back.

But it’s after the third strike when the male mage finally gives in. On a clear, cloudless day in New Haven, the weather changes. Snow begins to fall from the sky.

Seokjin is taken back to that day in the library of Blackstone Castle, where you showed him the beauty of your magic for the first time. How you remembered that he liked the snow, but hated the cold, and made a winter wonderland for him.

This time, as Seokjin sees the snow fall, he feels sick to his stomach.

Tariq has proven his point. The mages, through methods of torture and pain, are under his command. One hint of disobedience, and he’ll be sure to break them physically and mentally. The public flogging is only a small taste of the lengths Tariq would do, and if they are successful, they’ll recruit more mages. Under the guise of equality and freedom, the mages who join would be doomed to a fate worse than imprisonment in their heavily-guarded fortresses.

When Seokjin became a warden, he was taught that he needed to protect people from the mages. Over time, he’s learned that it’s the other way around. In many cases, it’s the mages that need protecting.

“You’re not going to work for that guy, are you?” Junghwan asks him as the crowd around them begin to disperse. 

“Even though they’re mages, that’s still too cruel,” Sunwoo quietly agrees with a frown. It seems like the others share the same sentiment. Many mages get locked away as soon as they awaken their powers, so it wouldn’t surprise Seokjin if his friends have never seen a mage until now.

“I’m not going to work for him. But I can’t let him keep hurting those mages,” Seokjin decides as his gaze turns to Jimin. The florist has been awfully quiet.

Jimin meets his gaze, but his expression is unreadable. Then, quietly, he asks, “Why do you care so much about them? You’re only human.”

“I care because I’m human. Whatever your stance with magic is, I don’t care, but this isn’t right. Mages are humans like us. They bleed the same as we do. They feel the same emotions: fear, anger, joy, sadness, love.” Seokjin holds himself back, almost slipping that Jimin, of all people, would know this as much as he does. He looks at his other friends and tells them, “I understand if you guys see me differently because of this. I didn’t join Tariq because I agreed with his methods, but he was the only one in town that had me believe he’d give everyone a fair chance.”

But he was clearly wrong. Tariq treats the mages worse than animals. He doesn’t need to point it out for them to know that.

There’s a short silence that falls between them. Even Jimin frowns in silence as he thinks about what Seokjin said. 

Then, Junghwan looks around and asks, “So, what’s our plan?”

Seokjin blinks at him. “What do you mean?”

Byulyi smiles. “Well, we can’t be Team Seokjin without you, right?”

Unfortunately, it’s impossible for Seokjin’s plan to happen overnight.

First, he’d have to find out where Tariq keeps the mages. Even on their journey back to New Haven, he has them tightly secured and under his control. On the rare occasions Seokjin even saw them, they were never without Tariq or any of his trusted men.

Taehyung perches on Seokjin’s shoulder when he attends the first guild meeting of the New Order. Tariq rambles on about his vision of the future: conquering quests and vanquishing foes with magic, expanding overseas, having a powerful army under his command. When the meeting is finally adjourned, the raven follows the leader of the New Order.

It isn’t until later that evening when Taehyung returns and informs, “He keeps them in a cellar. There’s a key to it around his neck.”

“That’s going to be hard to get,” Hoseok points out with a frown.

“What are things that Tariq likes?” Namjoon asks Seokjin.

“Fighting, coins, beer, women,” Seokjin lists, then pauses. Several gazes drift to you.

“No fucking way,” Yoongi hisses, standing in front of you. “We’re not going to use her to be objectified by those people.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi. I want to help,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. You can tell the others are uncomfortable with the idea as well. “I just have to talk to the guy until someone gets the key, right?”

“Flirting would help,” Namjoon adds, a bit regretful for even bringing it up with the way his jaw clenches at the idea. He glances at your breasts and mutters, “Showing some cleavage too.”

“Namjoon!” Hoseok snaps.

“It’s a suggestion!” he shouts, throwing his hands up in defense. “Her body is nice! I really like it!”

“You don’t have to do this, angel. I’m planning on asking Byulyi and Heeyeon to help too,” Seokjin reminds you, taking our hand in his.

“I can take care of myself,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. More quietly, you ask, “You’ll watch over me, right?”

Just as softly, he promises, “I always do.”

“Good.” You lean back with a smile. “Because if this Tariq guy tries anything, you might have to hold me back from taking him down.”

Seokjin laughs and kisses your hand. “I would love to see it.”

Then, he’d need to figure out how to break them free without anyone noticing. With all of New Haven knowing that there are mages in the town, it feels like everyone is high on alert. Keeping them in the shop is out of the question. Seokjin doesn’t want to risk anyone recognizing them and putting you and the others in danger. 

“My uncle might be able to get them out of town,” Jaehwan tells him when Team Seokjin reunites after the demonstration. “He travels pretty often, so he rarely keeps up with news about the town and the guilds. If we can pitch in some coins, I’m sure he won’t mind dropping them off on his next trip.”

“I know a lady who might be able to take them in for a few days,” Byulyi quietly brings up with a sad smile. “Her daughter had an awakening. She couldn’t do anything to stop the wardens from separating them, but she’s helped a couple mages since then.”

Seokjin nods, feeling a bit hopeful. Maybe this can all work out after all.

As they pass through the marketplace, someone catches Sunwoo’s attention. He nudges Junghwan, who looks over. “Whoa, who’s that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve seen her around town before,” Sunwoo says, eyes glued to someone in the crowd. “Do you reckon she’s new?”

Seokjin doesn’t know who they’re talking about, but as he looks up, his heart flutters at who he does see.

You.

Unexpectedly, you’re by the fruit stand, carefully examining apples before placing them into your basket with some eggs and flour. At your ankles is Yoongi in his cat form, seemingly having a staring contest with a toddler who keeps trying to pull away from her mother to pet him.

Like a moth to flame, and much to his friends’ surprise, Seokjin walks straight toward you. “Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, Jin! Hello.” You smile happily when you see him, equally surprised to be running into him at this time. “I’m thinking of baking apple pastries for the boys. Want to help me make them?”

“I’m busy right now,” he tells you, and it’s then that you notice that he’s with company. “But if you haven’t started when I get home, I’ll help.”

“Okay.” You wave hello to the group that are just staring at you two. A mix of shy smiles and knowing smirks are on their faces as they wave back.

“Ah, I should introduce you,” Seokjin scolds himself as he places his hand on the small of your back and faces his friends. He tells you each of their names. “Guys, this is—”

“Your wife?” Jaehwan finishes.

“Wife?” you repeat as Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“Ah. The neck-biter.” Heeyeon states with a glint in her eyes. Seokjin’s entire face feels incredibly hot as you look at him, thoroughly confused.

“Jin, what are they talking ab—”

“Honey, I don’t think you have enough ingredients in your basket. Why don’t you buy more apples?” he interrupts, giving you his entire pocket money. Even in his cat form, he could swear he saw Yoongi rolling his eyes.

You blink in surprise, but laugh in disbelief. “Sure. I’ll see you at home, husband.”

If Seokjin was a mage, he’d probably have the ground swallow him whole right then and there. There’s still a curious look on your face as you kiss him briefly and wave goodbye to his friends. But for now, you don’t question it. Instead, you pick up Yoongi and turn your attention back to the elderly woman selling apples.

Byulyi throws him a knowing smile. “So, that’s her huh?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Seokjin confirms bashfully, rubbing his neck.

“No wonder he always wants to go home after missions,” Junghwan comments. “I would too if my wife was that pretty.”

It will also take time for Seokjin to get into Tariq’s good graces, have him trust him enough not to warrant any suspicions. Without a team, it’s harder to do these difficult missions alone. It also doesn’t feel good biding his time while he knows that mages are suffering the longer he stalls.

“Here.”

“What’s this?” Seokjin asks, taking the map from Jimin. It’s of New Haven, but there are certain areas that are marked and circled.

“Those are the coordinates of hunter territories,” Jimin carefully explains as Seokjin’s eyes widen. “If you’re going to sneak those mages out, you need to avoid those areas. Especially during the witching hour.”

“How did you find this?” he asks, a bit baffled. He hadn’t even considered hunters would be patrolling around as well. “Did you steal it from a hunter?”

Jimin merely shrugs. “I want to help too.”

“Thank you! This is really helpful!” Seokjin praises as he continues to look it over. He notices that each hunter has initials, and frowns when he sees just how many there are in New Haven now. Ever since Blackstone Castle’s fall, it seems more of them have moved into town.

His eyes linger to where the shop is and notices that there’s a designated hunter marked there too. At least, there was. Black ink crosses out the initials, but if Seokjin were to hold the map up under a certain light, he might be able to read it.

J.M.

But finally, things are starting to fall into place. They only have one shot to get this right, and failure is not an option.

Everything goes according to plan.

After a successful quest, the New Order has taken over the shop’s tavern. A feast fit for kings is being served to them, as well as endless rounds of ale and lager. Music plays a lively tune in the background of the boisterous laughter and noisy chatter. The shop’s residents are all in position: Namjoon behind the counter, Yoongi cooking in the kitchen, Hoseok tending the bar, Taehyung in charge of entertainment and setting the mood, Jungkook standing guard and forcibly escorting people out when they’ve have too much. And then, there’s you.

You’re doing your usual tasks as well: cleaning tables, serving food and drinks, collecting coins after meals, and chatting up customers. Tonight, you pay extra attention to the leader of the New Order, smiling sweetly and fluttering your eyelashes when he speaks. You indulge in his stories of his latest conquests, fascinated with how the war-time hero managed to save his men from perilous dangers, and fake-laugh your way through his flirtatious advances. Sometimes, you’d follow Namjoon’s advice and subtly push out your chest or sway your hips when he has his eye on you.

And it’s working. Perhaps, a little too well. 

You have Tariq’s full attention. But Seokjin can’t stop staring at you either.

When you pass by, Seokjin waves you over. When you’re close enough, he motions you down and asks against your ear, “How’s it going?”

“Hard,” you admit, keeping your voice low as if you’re afraid one of the patrons would eavesdrop in the conversation. “I feel so awkward.”

Seokjin pulls back and looks around the tavern. Most of Tariq’s crew are starting to pass out from gluttony. The delicious food and alcohol that keep coming from the kitchen and bar make it too easy to overindulge. One bite sends tastebuds to euphoria; one sip has them craving for more. Listening carefully, it isn’t just the music that’s playing on a loop, but so is the sound of their laughter and chatter, making it hard to tell that one by one, Tariq’s men are starting to surrender to their slumber.

Part of it could be from eating and drinking too much. But more-likely, it’s from the sleep powder Yoongi and Hoseok have slowly been slipping into their food and drinks. With bellies full and their thirst quenched, they won’t remember anything when they wake: not the shop, not any of your faces, and not what will transpire tonight.

Tariq, none the wiser, sits in the middle of the tavern. He doesn’t notice that his men are slowly disappearing, being escorted by Namjoon and Jungkook into a mysterious door at the entrance of the shop. He doesn’t notice how one chef and one bartender could produce such a quantity of excellent foods and drinks within seconds, or that they’ve been tampered with. He doesn’t notice the seamlessly endless loop of music, ambiguous chatter, clinks of utensils, and faint laughter around him as Taehyung steps away from the parlor to assist you.

All Tariq can focus on is you. He can’t take his eyes off you. The glamor spell you put on yourself makes it hard for him to look away.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a natural,” Seokjin replies, turning his gaze back to you. Then, more seriously, he reminds you, “If you start to feel uncomfortable, we can call it off and go with another plan.”

“I’m okay because you’re here,” you tell him honestly. You trust Seokjin more than anyone, and he feels his heart race at your words as you smile at him softly. So sweet and innocent. Then, you lean toward his ear again and confess, “Besides, I pretend that it’s you I’m trying to seduce.”

His eyes widen, frozen from shock, as you casually pull away and return to your duties. He feels his entire face flush red as you look over your shoulder and smirk at him.

Perhaps, you’re having more fun with this than he initially thought.

The little exchange between you two doesn’t go unnoticed. Tariq suddenly waves for him to sit at his table. The key to the cellar hangs around his neck. Seokjin sees it as he slips into the seat in front of him.

“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Tariq inquires, gesturing at you with a nod of his head. “I saw you eyeing her all evening.”

“She’s beautiful,” Seokjin replies sincerely. With or without the glamor, Seokjin always thought you were attractive. He sees you working hard for the remaining guests, asking Taehyung to clear out a couple tables while a group calls you for more drinks.

“You like her, huh? Don’t worry. I won’t tell your wife,” Tariq jokes with a sly smile. A rush of heat colors Seokjin’s face red. He’s forgotten how everyone in the Freelancers, including Tariq and his friends, think he’s a married man. “I think she might have a sweet spot for me. I told her I’m going to change the world by bringing mages into the guilds. She asked me how that’s possible, and you know what I said?”

“What?”

“Control,” he casually answers with a sadistic glint in his eye. “You have to put them under your thumb. Let them know their place. These mages are vicious forces, and they have the power over all things natural and unnatural. Humans like us have to show them who is in command.”

“Or you could respect them,” Seokjin counters with a frown. “Mages are humans too.”

As a former warden, Seokjin has seen the abuse of power over mages first-hand. How worthless their lives are to the Devoted, who weed them out through Harrowings and false claims of corruption. Eventually, the mages will fight back. Like Adriel. Like the forest mage. And, inevitably, like you.

Tariq scoffs and waves you over. “Funny. She said the same thing.”

“Hello, sir. What can I get for you?” you direct your question to Tariq, but your eyes flicker briefly to Seokjin. The two of you are pretending not to know each other – the less Tariq and his men know about his personal connections to the shop, the better – but Seokjin can tell that you’re a little nervous.

“I just wanted to let you know that my buddy thinks you’re very beautiful,” Tariq tells you, trying to tease Seokjin.

You turn to him with a knowing smile. “Does he?”

“I do,” he replies, honest. Without thinking, his hand reaches out from under the table to touch the back of your leg. You nearly jump from contact, throwing him a bewildered look, but Seokjin remains cool, calm, and collected. There’s a small, smug smirk on his lips. Payback for what you told him earlier.

“I think he’s very handsome too,” you say, a bit flustered. It’s cute that you’re trying not to let him affect you. But he can feel the way your body tenses beneath his fingertips, how forced your smile is as you look at him nervously because Tariq is right there.

Seokjin doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. When he reached out, he meant to just comfort you, let you know that he’s there if you need him. Maybe it’s because you’re flirting with another man. Maybe it’s the way Tariq is looking at you. But the way Seokjin’s fingers tease up the hem of your dress becomes a bit possessive. A subtle reminder that, at the end of the day, you’re still his.

“Two ales for me and the kid, pretty thing,” Tariq finally orders, unaware of what’s going on with you two.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” you tell him with a pleasant smile, and nudge Seokjin’s hand away. As you turn to leave, you shoot him a look. And Seokjin has the audacity to wink back at you.

“I think she might have a sweet spot for you too,” Tariq comments as he watches you leave. His gaze lingers a little too long for Seokjin’s liking. “How was your mission?”

“It went well. As expected,” Seokjin lies with ease. Before coming to the shop, he was personally tasked to take care of some goons Tariq had a hit on. People he suspects are conspiring against him. Little does he know, Seokjin plans to do the same.

You give Hoseok the order, both of you eyeing the table where Tariq and Seokjin are. When Seokjin gives the signal – a very slight nod of his head – Hoseok grabs two clean glasses and fills them with ale.

“I knew I could count on you,” Tariq continues with a proud smile. Instead of killing them off, Seokjin had warned them of Tariq’s intentions and told them to skip town for a while. “I think you have the potential of being a great guild leader one of these days.”

“You think so?”

Seokjin watches as Hoseok sprinkles a light-blue powder in one of the drinks and mixes it in. A faint smoke emerges from it, indicating that it’s been tampered with.

“I see a lot of myself in you, kid. You’re driven, strong, and with a good head. You’re not influenced by the bullshit ideals that my brother and most of the town believes.” He pauses as he looks at Seokjin curiously. “Are you Devoted?”

“I was raised to be, but my beliefs don’t align with the teachings anymore.”

Before he hands the drinks to you, Hoseok tells you which one is which. You nod your head, making sure you don’t mix them up as you start to walk toward their table.

“Good. Same as me,” Tariq agrees with an approving nod. “The Devoted like to think their war against the mages is a noble cause, but at the end of the day, war is nothing but death and destruction. It doesn’t matter if the enemies you’re against are magical or not. I hope your family doesn’t give you a hard time about it like mine does.”

“Here you go. Two ales,” you announce as you place the cold drinks in front of them. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“I think we’re good for now,” Seokjin answers, looking at you with a softer expression. The hardest part is almost over. It’ll be easy to snatch the key around his neck once the potion hits. “Thank you.”

“This is an interesting place you found here, kid,” Tariq tells him, looking around the shop. Something about this place feels so whimsical and enchanting. “I know New Haven like the back of my head, but I’ve never been here before. It’s almost magical.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Seokjin chuckles and raises his glass to Tariq. “To the New Order and to you, Tariq.”

“To the New Order.”

Clink.

Their glasses touch and they take a drink. For a moment, the loop of music and background ambiance stops. It’s quiet, and the shop’s residents watch as the golden liquid slides down Tariq’s throat. He finishes the last drop, and once he sets down the glass, everything resumes as normal. The lively tune plays on, and all of you are back to work and taking care of the remaining customers.

Everything is going exactly as planned.

Until it doesn’t.

“You’re really working that thing, aren’t you?”

Nearby, a group of drunk men have turned their attention to you. Seokjin sees their hungry stares before you meet their gaze. The way their eyes trail up and down your body, lingering blatantly on your ass and tits. He sees their smirks and hears their snickers as another man faces you and pats his leg. “Yeah, why don’t you take a break and sit with us, sweet thing?”

Seokjin feels his whole body tense up, ready to step in and snap at them to leave you alone. Tariq watches as well, more humored than angry, as his men drunkenly cat-call you and make lewd remarks.

“No, no. I’m quite busy,” you tell them firmly. Your eyes lock with Seokjin as well, a wordless assurance that you can handle yourself.

In situations like this, Namjoon would take over certain tables when they become too rowdy. He’d be the one who’d calmly but sternly have them wrap things up before they cause a scene. Before things escalate.

“Don’t be like that, baby. Come on. Give us a smile. We’re just trying to be nice.”

But Namjoon, nor any of the other boys, have realized what’s happening yet. 

The men chuckle darkly, and the way that they continue to undress you with their eyes makes Seokjin’s blood boil. It’s subtle, but the lights around the shop flicker briefly, as if a breeze has just passed through. As if the shop senses your uneasiness.

“I think you’ve all had enough to drink,” you start, glaring at the men before you.

“For a pretty girl, you sure are a bitch with a smart mouth,” one guy remarks as he suddenly grabs your arm. “Instead of talking back, why don’t I show you what else your mouth can—”

Ice-cold water from a canister is unceremoniously dumped on his head. The man instantly lets you go, and Taehyung pulls you close to him. Soaking wet, the man turns to the raven familiar and the empty canister in his hand.

With a blank face, Taehyung casually tells him, “It looks like you need to cool off.”

“Asshole!” the man snaps, getting into Taehyung’s face. A plate shatters to the ground, causing the remaining patrons – and the other residents of the shop – to stop what they’re doing and see what’s going on.

Taehyung remains unfazed by his aggression, but moves you behind him. 

Before Seokjin realizes what he’s doing, he suddenly stands up and makes his way toward you two before the others do. He pushes the man away from Taehyung. 

“Back off. Don’t you dare touch them.”

“Didn’t you see what this fucker did? If this little slut—”

The man yelps in pain when Seokjin suddenly grabs the front of his shirt and shoves him hard against the table. Plates and utensils clatter, and drinks spill over. Tension rises as the friends he was eating with stand up as well.

“I’m only going to warn you one more time,” Seokjin informs, his voice low and with an anger you’ve rarely seen in him. “Leave my friends alone, or I won’t hesitate to run a sword through you.”

Stubbornly, the man grits his teeth and clenches his hand into a fist. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”

“Guys, that’s enough. Apologize to the pretty lady and her friends,” Tariq commands as the fist comes close to Seokjin’s jaw. The man looks ready to argue, but even he knows he can’t go against the leader’s orders. And once a half-hearted apology is made, Tariq continues to look at Seokjin curiously. “It seems you know about this shop and the people here more than you let on, kid.”

Seokjin doesn’t know when, but all the other boys are suddenly with you. Jungkook cracks his neck, mouth twitching as he stares at the group with darkened eyes. Yoongi stares at the group with a look that could put a wrath demon to shame. Hoseok has his hand firmly on your wrist as Namjoon murmurs for Taehyung to take you to Jimin’s. 

Not because you necessarily need protection.

But because they know how fiercely protective you are of Seokjin.

Seeing the man nearly hit Seokjin made you furious. Seokjin realizes that Hoseok is holding your wrist so you don’t use magic, murmuring against your temple to calm down. Even as Taehyung tugs you to come with him, you refuse to budge. Your eyes are glued to the group of men, and perhaps it’s the lighting, but Seokjin had seen that look on your face once before.

When you almost turned Wicked.

Yoongi steps in front of you, blocking your view of them and Seokjin. Whatever he says to you snaps you out of it. And when Seokjin peeks at you, your eyes are still the same. No trace of golden Wickedness in your irises. Even though you’re still angry and refuse to leave him out of your sight.

“I should’ve known this was some kind of set up,” Tariq begins, laughing in disbelief. “What’s this all about, Seokjin? Do you want money? Glory? Who the hell are these people anyway?”

Seokjin turns to him. In a tavern where most of his men have been knocked out, and where the remaining will soon forget, a truth is revealed. “This is my family.”

“Looks more like a coven to me,” Tariq states, eyeing the others. It starts to make sense to him why Seokjin picked his side over his brother’s. Why he seemed so concerned about the mages to begin with. “Is this about the demonstration? You’re upset that I hurt one of your kind, aren’t you?”

“Boss…” the man behind Seokjin croaks out, voice heavy with sleep. He wobbles on his feet and his eyes roll to the back of his head before the spell overcomes him.

One by one, the others start to fall into a deep sleep as well. And it’s only then that Tariq realizes he’s the last man standing. Without his crew, and for the first time in a very long while, Tariq looks terrified. “What have you done? What did you do to us?”

“Don’t worry. You won’t remember,” Seokjin assures him, stepping closer to him. “Not this shop, not any of our faces, not even the mages you tortured after the mission. To you, it will be just a dream. And you and your men will travel far from here and won’t harm another mage again. Am I clear?”

Tariq nods his head, eyes glazed over as the command settles in. His body begins to relax, fall sluggish, and then he slowly starts to slip to the ground. Already, the faces of Seokjin, you, and the others begin to blur before his eyes. Memories start to escape him. He wants to travel, get out of town, sail the seas, but to where?

“Good,” Seokjin finishes, holding out his hand as the hypnosis takes its effect completely and Tariq begins to pass out. “Now hand me the key around your neck.”

In the dark and damp cellar, three mages are barely alive. Old and fresh wounds are all over their bodies, and it feels like months since they’ve eaten anything but scraps of moldy bread or rusty water. They’ve lost count of their days, but at this point, anything is better than this hell, even the Veil itself.

A flinch of fear twitches in their bodies when the sound of the cellar key unlocks. It must be that man again, coming to torture them more, until they’re obedient like dogs to use as tools for his quests.

“Are you guys in here?”

One of the women dares to lift her head, seeming to recognize the voice calling out to the darkness. Her voice is barely a whisper when she answers, “Yes, we’re here.”

Light shines upon them like a candle of hope. And Seokjin is holding the torch. He looks relieved to see them, to see that they’re still alive, but frowns at the urgent conditions they’re in. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out small vials. “These should help a little.”

As the liquid touches their lips, they’re surprised. It’s a healing potion.

Already, the warm and rejuvenating effects surges an energy in them. Pain melts away in an instant. Life starts to shine back into their eyes. It’s a small and temporary fix, but it’s the best they’ve felt in ages.

With stiff and sore joints and muscles, they help each other out of the dark cellar and under the bright moon and its blanket of stars. Tears fall from the male mage’s eyes as he leans his weight on his friend, barely able to walk on his own. The team Seokjin was with is there to meet them, and Seokjin explains that they will help them safely get out of town and to a place where they can stay for a little while.

There is another group with them as well. Two male mages, one female mage, and their familiars. Another human is with them too, astonished by an entire guild of ruthless, cutthroat men snoring away as you all help carry them into Tariq’s house.

“Is that them?” the female mage that Seokjin had talked to after the mission inquires, looking at you all. Seokjin follows her gaze and sees Jungkook flexing to impress you before he hoists one of the bodies over his shoulder.

“Yeah. That’s my family.”

“Family, huh? That’s nice,” she continues. Despite how hectic and draining the night has been, you laugh and playfully smack Jungkook as you follow him inside. It’s once the two of you are out of sight where she finally looks away. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.”

“Ah, that’s right. My name is Seokjin,” he says, a bit embarrassed that he had planned a whole rescue mission and didn’t even properly introduce himself yet. “And you?”

She smiles. “You can call me Lilah.”

“We’ve been here for hours and we didn’t catch anything,” Taehyung whines, visibly glum that the group decided to return back empty-handed. Hoseok chuckles and pats his shoulder to comfort him.

“It was still fun. I liked it,” Yoongi admits as Seokjin practically beams at him.

“What about you, honey? Did you like it?” he asks you, hoping you had a good time. Though, he can’t help but feel a bit disappointed that your first fishing trip together wasn’t as action-packed as he’d like.

“I won’t lose points with your parents if we show up without a fish?” you ask him, half-joking but also like you’re ready to go back out there and use magic to lure in the biggest catch if he says you would.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin says, putting his arm around you. “We can go to the market, buy a fish there, and say we caught it.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Namjoon mutters, thinking about it.

“Oh! I want to look at the marketplace here!” Jungkook states, eyes wide with interest when he realizes there might be new food to try in this small town.

Seokjin laughs. “We can go check some places out, but we’re not lying to my parents.”

The trip that Seokjin has been wanting to take you all to was finally happening. After saving up for it, and pushing it back, all of you have arrived at his small, fisherman town. Not much has changed since he left, and his parents were surprised that he had returned home with so many people eager to meet them.

But after they received his letters, they were equally eager to meet you. The one who changed their son to be a braver, more open-minded man. To see with their own eyes that their son is still good and hard-working, and is also very-well loved by his new-found family.

After a quick trip to the market, you, Seokjin, and Yoongi prepare a nice dinner for his parents. The rest of your group offer to clean up afterwards. As Seokjin adds vegetables into his stew, he hears his mother call for him to her bedroom.

“This belonged to my grandmother,” she tells him, revealing an old ring she’s been looking for. “When you marry that girl, use this ring.”

Seokjin smiles as he looks at it. He feels touched, surprised, but also sad. Mages aren’t allowed to marry. There won’t be a beautiful ceremony for you and Seokjin that his parents would attend. Giving you the ring won’t change the way things currently are between you and him now.

“I will, Mom. Thank you.”

“It’s beautiful, Jin.”

You look down at the ring around your finger. Under the sunlight, the diamonds sparkle beautifully. It reminds you of stars, and the way the surfaces of clear water glimmer. Coincidentally, it has seven stones embedded in the band.

“Even if it’s just pretend, my mom will be happy when she sees you wear it next time.”

You look up at Seokjin, and you see him staring at the ring as well. It’s a perfect fit. 

A moment of silence passes between you two before you finally ask, “Jin, why do you pretend that we’re married?”

He meets your gaze, a bit embarrassed now. He remembers when you met his friends at the marketplace and how they referred to you as his wife. Awkwardly, he looks away again and rubs his neck. “Oh, they just assumed. I never bothered to correct them.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Maybe it makes him happy to pretend as well.

“Do you want to marry me?”

He sighs. “You know I would if— why are you kneeling?”

When he looks back at you, you’re kneeling on the ground, holding his hand with the ring he had put on your finger. Then, you wrap your pinky around his.

“I don’t know if I’m doing this right,” you tell him, a bit shyly. “But maybe we can find someone who can officiate us. Maybe if the other guys want to be married too, we can include them. Maybe we can find our own way to make it work. But I love you, Kim Seokjin. I truly do. And if you’ll have me, I wouldn’t be opposed to having a worldwide handsome husband either.”

Seokjin stares at you, shocked, happy, and so full of love. He laughs and kneels down with you, holding your face in his hands as he kisses you.

Two weeks later, after you and the others return from the trip, Seokjin meets up with his team at the shop. They look around in awe and wonder before settling in the tavern. It feels strange that it wasn’t that long ago that everything with Tariq had happened.

Now, he’s embarking on a new journey overseas with his trusted men. None of them remember what had happened after they woke up. Tariq doesn’t even remember why he and his brother have fought, but he had decided that staying in New Haven was no longer what he wanted to do anymore. And Adnan could run the Freelancers however he pleases without arguing with his brother all the time.

Seokjin got word that the mages made it safely to a place, but the one named Lilah had left the group and seemingly disappeared. 

The other boys were upset that Seokjin didn’t give them a head’s up about giving you the ring or the proposal, but none of them were opposed to the idea of marrying you eventually either. Even Jimin returned to the flower shop and muttered about trying to find a ring that he had somewhere.

“Here’s some drinks for everyone,” you announce, setting down the beverages in front of each of them. Seokjin murmurs his thanks and pulls you down for a quick kiss. It makes Byulyi and Junghwan scrunch their noses as Sunwoo, Heeyeon, and Jaehwan smile at him.

“So, you and your wife are doing well,” Heeyeon remarks, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. 

“She’s great. We’re great,” Seokjin confirms with a tiny, shy smile. No one else is at the shop at this time, so you talk to Hoseok at the bar and pet Yoongi, who is sleeping on it in his cat form.

“I guess you could say things have been pretty magical lately?” Jaehwan inquires as Seokjin turns to him, surprised.

Byulyi laughs at his expression. “We figured it out a long time ago, Jin. It’s okay. We won’t tell anyone about them.”

“Oh. Okay.” He sighs with relief. “They’re the reason why I had to save those mages.”

“We know,” Sunwoo says with a smile. “It was kind of nice doing a mission like that. Without Adnan or Tariq. Just us, your mage wife, and your magical friends.”

Junghwan groans. “What are we going to do now? I still want to go on quests with you guys, but I don’t think I want to join the Freelancers again.”

“They’re slowly becoming like any other guild now,” Heeyeon agrees, shaking her head. After the rescue mission, they don’t think they could join another guild that sees mages as enemies either.

Seokjin is quiet as he thinks about the past few months. He used to be traditional, following his orders and duties diligently, listening to words of the Devoted. Now, he’s changed a lot as he thinks about what Tariq said, about how you and him are willing to make things work in your own way, how they’ve all started to see mages as friends and not enemies.

“Why don’t we just make our own guild?” Seokjin suggests, as he looks at his friends before him. They look back at him with interested looks and excited smiles. “We’ve done missions on our own before. We can do it again.”

“Yeah, we can just register as our own guild in the town square and start off by taking missions at the local community board,” Byulyi reasons, already starting to organize it together. “We’ll need a name though. What should we call ourselves?”

Seokjin glances at you and sees all the things he’s promised to you with the ring you wear around your finger. “Let’s call ourselves the Oathkeepers.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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